DEATH      OF     CAPTAIN      COOK. 


A  JVlKxicAN  RANCH 


OR 


BEAUTY  FOR  ASHES 


A  PRIZE  STORY 


BY 

MRS.  JANIE  PRICHARD  DUGGAN 


He  hath  sent  me  to  bind  up  the  broken-hearted, 

To  proclaim  liberty  to  the  captives, 

And  the  opening  of  the  prison  to  them  that  are  bound ; 

To  proclaim  the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord, 

And  the  day  of  vengea..ce  of  our  God; 

To  comfort  all  that  mourn  ; 

To  give  unto  them  beauty  for  ashes, 

The  oil  of  joy  for  mourning, 

The  garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness. 

ISAIAH  61  : 1-3. 


PHILADELPHIA 

AMERICAN  BAPTIST  PUBLICATION  SOCIETY 

1420  CHESTNUT  STREET 

1894 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1894,  by  the 

AMERICAN  BAPTIST  PUBLICATION  SOCIETY, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


TO 

THOSE  FAITHFUL  MISSIONARIES, 

MY   COLLEAGUES   IN   MEXICO,   THIS   VOLUME 

IS  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED 

BY 

J.  P.  D. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGK 

INTRODUCTION,  PROLOGUE, 7-14 

CHAPTER  1. 
A  MOUNTAIN  WAIF, 15 

CHAPTEK  II. 
THE  WAIF'S  STORY, 34 

CHAPTER  III. 
LOOKING  BACKWARD, 45 

CHAPTEK  IY. 

THE  HOUSE  OF  YERA, 57 

CHAPTER  V. 
SUNDAY  AT  THE  RANCH, G9 

CHAPTER  VI. 
OLD  JUANA'S   PROPHECY 87 

CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  STORM  ON  THE  PRAIRIE,        107 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
LITTLE   LOLA'S    QUESTION, 117 

CHAPTER  IX. 
DONA  RAQUEL'S  CONFESSION, 130 

CHAPTER  X. 
FRIENDSHIP'S   PROOF, 143 

CHAPTER  XI. 
THE  LITTLE  LAMB  GOES  HOME, 162 

CHAPTEK  XII. 
RAINY  DAYS  AT  THE  RANCH,    ...         .....         177 


6  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

CHAPTEK  XIII. 
THE  HIDE  TO  LA  PROVIDENCIA, 188 

CHAPTEE  XIV. 
IK  THE  KIVER, 202 

CHAPTEK  XV. 
NURSING  SMALL-POX, 211 

CHAPTEK  XVI. 
THE  PRIEST  AND  THE  SCHOOLMASTER, 225 


CHAPTEE  XVII. 

....    237 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

.248 

CHAPTEK  XIX. 

PRAYERS  TO  THE  SAINTS,  

266 

CHAPTER  XX. 

....    279 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

.    .    292 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY  FULFILLED,    .    .    . 

....    309 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

....    321 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  CONFERENCE  AT  THE  BARN,   

....    335 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

FROM  THE  RANCH  TO  THE  CITY,    

.'  ...    848 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

BKAUTY  FOR  ASHES,  

.    ...    358 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A  GARDEN  OF  GIRLS,      

....    366 

INTRODUCTION. 


THIS  is  not  a  true  story  in  the  sense  that  each 
character  is  a  true  representation  of  some  real 
person  who  has  said  and  done  just  what  the 
characters  of  the  book  say  and  do.  Nor  are  the 
facts  stated  matters  of  history  in  our  Baptist 
annals.  Perhaps  there  is  no  ranch  of  San  Ber- 
nabe  in  the  whole  republic  of  Mexico. 

Yet  it  is  a  true  story  in  the  sense  that  there 
have  been  missionaries  in  Mexico  for  over  thirty 
years  who  have  lived  and  toiled  and  preached  and 
taught  just  as  the  missionaries  of  this  story  are 
represented  as  doing.  There  have  been  persecutions 
and  mobs  and  burnings  of  mission  houses  ;  there 
have  been  long  seasons  of  drought  during  the  Lord's 
seed-times,  which  have  ended  in  marvelous  ingath- 
erings at  the  harvest ;  there  has  been  all  this  since 
the  beginning  of  mission  work  in  all  foreign  lands, 
and  there  will  be  to  the  end,  and  "  the  end  is  not 
yet " ;  there  have  been  loving  and  marrying  and 
hope  and  disappointment  and  death  in  the  world 
from  the  day  God's  angel  with  the  fiery  sword 
first  guarded  against  man  the  gates  of  Paradise, 
the  abode  of  sinlessness  and  perfect  happiness. 

7 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

There  are  numberless  ranches  all  over  Mexico 
opening  to  the  gospel,  where  men  and  women  are 
needed  to  minister  to  the  diseased  souls  and  bodies 
of  the  peasants.  In  some  there  is  not  even  the 
adobe  mission  schoolhouse,  while  in  others,  neat 
buildings  have  been  raised  to  the  praise  of  God 
and  his  Son. 

As  these  lines  are  written,  news  comes  that  the 
ranch  used  as  a  model  for  San  Bernabe  has  at  last 
a  new  Baptist  meeting-house,  after  several  years 
of  struggle  toward  this  point ;  and  this  item  also 
comes  with  the  news:  "Since  beginning  to  use 
our  new  house,  sixjiy  hearers  have  been  added  to 
the  congregation,  without  counting  those  who 
stand  outside. in  the  doorway  and  windows." 

So  "San  Bernabe"  at  last  has  its  mission 
church  in  truth,  even  though  no  chapel  to  "Our 
L/ady  of  Solitude  "  had  to  be  torn  down  to  make 
way  for  it,  and  the  work  of  the  Lord  prospers  in 
that  place  just  as  if  a  Mary  and  a  Roger  Douglas 
were  shepherds  of  the  little  flock  folded  there. 

J.  P.  D. 
WAKE  FOREST,  April,  1894. 


PROLOGUE. 
THE  CHILD  IN  THE;  GARDEN. 

rPHE  old  garden  is  gone  now,  with  its  gooseberry 
J-  bushes  and  the  long  asparagus  beds,  and  the 
crab  apple-tree,  whose  delicious  blooms  enticed  the 
bees  and  the  humming  birds  as  no  other  tree  in 
the  garden  could.  The  long,  shady  arbor,  reach- 
ing quite  across  the  garden,  and  laden  in  the 
autumn  with  pink  and  purple  grapes,  swinging 
high  above  childish  heads — this  is  gone  too,  along 
with  the  sunny  stretch  of  green  sward,  bounded 
by  the  mint  beds  and  the  tansy  plots.  The 
gnarled,  old  apple-trees,  the  pippin  and  the  "rosy- 
cheeked,"  have  laid  their  heads  low,  and  long 
past  is  the  time  when  their  sturdy  limbs  and 
spreading  branches  were  Blue  Beard's  castle  or 
brigands'  strongholds  and  their  leaves  made  gar- 
lands for  fairy  folk. 

The  child  is  gone  too,  yet  both  she  and  the 
garden  exist  still,  as  that  far-away,  ancient  city 
exists,  sunk  beneath  the  waves  of  the  northern 
seas.  The  waters  surge  and  beat  along  the  empty 
coast,  once  graced  by  the  walls  of  the  fair  city ; 
but  the  fisherman  pauses  as  his  boat  rides  the 
waves  over  the  spot  where  the  sunken  city  now 
rests,  and  fancies  that  he  hears  the  evening  bells 

9 


IO  PROLOGUE. 

ring  out  from  the  church  towers  below  and  the 
voices  of  children  in  the  streets  calling  to  one 
another  at  play.  In  spite  of  the  piles  of  stone  and 
mortar,  and  the  trim,  graveled  paths  now  occupy- 
ing the  old  "home  spot,"  she  who  was  the  child 
still  wanders  through  the  old  garden,  rilled  with 
the  scent  of  blossoming  trees  and  the  singing  of 
birds. 

Perhaps  her  eyes  are  not  so  sharp  and  bright 
to-day  as  on  those  summer  mornings  when  she 
trotted  between  the  asparagus  beds,  a  few  steps  in 
front  of  "grandpa,"  eagerly  bent  on  spying  and 
pointing  out  to  him  the  tender,  sprouting  heads 
awaiting  his  keen  knife.  The  curly  head  under 
the  blue  gingham  sun-bonnet  often  grew  damp 
and  heated  in  the  ardent  sunshine,  but  grandpa 
could  never  find  all  the  tempting  bits  of  the  tender 
asparagus  without  Mary's  aid — of  that  the  small 
maid  was  quite  sure,  and  grandpa  never  tried  to 
convince  her  of  the  contrary ;  perhaps,  indeed,  she 
was  right,  for  the  old  man's  step  grew  languid 
long  before  he  would  give  up  his  daily  pleasures 
in  the  garden — of  noting  the  budding  raspberry 
bushes,  of  straightening  the  rows  of  strawberry 
plants,  or  of  breaking  open  the  tarnished  bloom 
of  a  peach-tree  to  see  if  last  week's  frost  had  killed 
the  germ. 

The  snow  was  lying  deep  over  every  hillock 
and  bed  in  the  garden  on  the  day  when  grandpa 
was  carried  away  between  the  euonymus  trees  and 


PROLOGUE.  II 

rows  of  box,  never  again  to  follow  the  child  down 
the  garden  paths.  The  garden  was  never  again 
quite  so  sunny  as  before ;  and  after  that,  I 
think  the  blue  sky  always  seemed  a  little  nearer 
to  the  garden  tree  tops. 

The  odor  of  the  rich,  damp  earth,  freshly  turned 
up  by  the  plough,  how  even  to  this  far-off  day 
it  is  wafted  back,  and  little  Mary  again  digs  her 
bare  toes  into  the  moist,  brown  clods,  with  small 
shrieks  and  shudders  at  the  sight  of  the  squirming 
earthworms  thus  suddenly  brought  to  light. 

Many  a  trampled  trail  through  the  oat  patch 
told  of  strolls  with  the  favorite  boy-doll  "Willy"  ', 
and  the  inner  quake  of  fear  is  almost  felt  again  at 
the  realization  that  "Willy  "  is  perhaps  really  lost 
amid  the  bowing  grain,  when  the  little  mother 
has  only  laid  him  to  sleep  for  a  moment  in  a  par- 
ticularly inviting  nest  while  she  rambles  on  in 
search  of  a  flower.  Ah,  silly  child,  your  path 
back  through  the  oatfield  to  your  lost  dolly  is 
easier  to  retrace  than  you  imagine,  as  you  gaze 
ahead  over  the  unbroken  surface  of  grain  before 
you.  Looking  back  through  the  years  now,  my 
Mary,  why  is  it  that  the  long  past,  all  tried  as 
it  has  been,  seems  as  unreadable  and  inaccessible 
as  the  short  and  untried  future  beyond?  With 
our  enlarged  vision,  our  grown-up  energies,  our 
"evolved"  tastes,  is  it  ever  possible  to  find  our 
way  back  to  that  once  prominent  past,  which 
was  so  vivid  a  present,  and  to  stand  in  thought 


12  PROLOGUE. 

and  imagination  just  where  once  we  stood  in 
reality? 

A  long  bench  under  the  grape  arbor,  with  the 
legs  wanting  at  one  end,  made  a  delightful  re- 
clining seat  in  the  green  shade,  and  Mary,  who 
had  no  wish  for  cushions  and  had  never  heard  of 
hammocks,  thought  no  place  so  inviting  for  read- 
ing, while  the  bees  hummed  overhead  and  the 
catbirds  called  to  each  other  in  the  apple-trees ; 
and  "Marmion,"  "The  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  and 
the  dear  old  illustrated  edition  of  "Vanity  Fair," 
are  vivid  memories  of  those  early  reading  days. 

The  grass  was  soft  and  cool  in  the  summer 
evenings,  as  the  child,  lying  on  her  back,  gazed 
up  at  the  rosy  clouds  sailing  overhead.  There 
beset  her  then  the  same  questions  that  puzzle  the 
world  still,  and  always  will,  but  they  were  chased 
hither  and  thither  in  the  small  brain  or  driven 
into  out-of-the-way  corners  by  the  sight  of  the 
slow  whirl  of  the  birds  against  the  sky,  enjoying 
their  sunset  pastimes,  or  by  the  peeping  of  the 
sleepy  birdies  in  the  nest  in  the  apricot  tree  near 
by. 

The  questions  remain, — yes,  and  they  have 
grown  broader  and  more  comprehensive  as  the 
years  have  passed  until  they  embrace  the  whole 
of  the  mystery  of  her  life, — but  the  idle  circling 
of  a  bird  in  the  air  does  not  now  bring  the  calm 
and  the  patience  that  are  needed  ;  they  come  with 
the  tiny  whisper  :  "  He  knows  ;  he  knows." 


A  MKXICAN  RANCH. 


For  my  part,  if  I  can  put  one  touch  of  a  rosy  sunset  into  the  life 
of  any  man  or  woman  ...  I  shall  feel  that  I  have  worked  with 
God.  He  is  in  no  haste ;  and  if  I  do  what  I  may,  in  earnest,  I  need 
not  mourn  if  I  do  no  great  work  on  the  earth.  Let  God  make  his 
sunsets :  I  will  mottle  my  little  fading  cloud.  To  help  the  growth  of 
a  thought  that  struggles  toward  the  light ;  to  brush  with  gentle  hand 
the  earth-stain  from  the  white  of  one  snowdrop — such  be  my  ambi- 
tion !  So  shall  I  scale  the  rocks  in  front,  not  Jeave  my  name  carved 
upon  those  behind  me ! — George  Macdonald. 


.  CHAPTER  I. 

A   MOUNTAIN  WAIF. 

Is  not  this  the  fast  that  I  have  chosen  ?  To  loose  the  bands  of 
wickedness,  to  undo  the  heavy  burdens,  and  to  let  the  oppressed  go 
free  ?— Isa.  58  :  6. 

u  CEftORlTA !  Buenos  dias."   (Good-morning, 

v3    miss !) 

"  Good-morning,  Dona  Martina.  What  a  beau- 
tiful day  we  have." 

"  Very  beautiful,  senorita,  and Come  hither, 

thou  little  vagabond,  what  dost  thou  hiding 
behind  the  door  ?  Dost  thou  not  see  the  Senorita 
Americana  waiting  here,  and  how  can  I  explain 
to  her  if  thou  wilt  persist  in  hiding  thy  face  ? 
Come  hither,  I  say." 

Mary  Summers  was  on  her  way  to  open  the 
door  of  the  little  mission  schoolhouse,  one  bright 
morning  in  October,  when  she  was  arrested  by 
the  shrill  voice  of  the  Mexican  woman  whose 
hut  she  was  passing.  She  stopped,  wondering 
not  a  little  that  Dona  Martina,  who  was  known 
as  one  of  the  most  fanatical  women  in  the  large 
ranch  of  San  Bernabe",  should  have  called  to  her 
thus  publicly  from  her  doorway.  She  showed 
none  of  her  astonishment  however,  but  awaited 
further  developments,  standing  outside  upon  the 

15 


l6  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

glaring  white  road  which  divided  the  ranch  into 
two  almost  equal  parts.  After  a  few  moments  the 
"  little  vagabond  "  was  hunted  from  his  hiding 
place,  and  this  time  triumphantly  presented  by 
his  mother  to  the  teacher  outside. 

"Will  you  take  him,  maestro,?"^  she  asked, 
looking  with  pride  upon  her  son,  a  boy  of  seven 
years,  who  still  hung  back  unwillingly,  grasping 
the  soiled  skirt  of  his  mother's  dress. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Miss  Summers,  holding 
out  her  white  hand  and  taking  the  small  brown 
one  of  the  child,  "  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  another 
boy  as  a  companion  for  Carlos  and  Samuel.  All 
the  rest  of  my  pupils  are  girls,"  she  explained  to 
the  woman,  who  was  examining  with  open  admi- 
ration the  fresh  morning  dress  of  the  school- 
mistress. 

"Well,  go  along  with  thee,  Juanito,"  said  the 
mother,  good-hurnoredly  ;  ' '  and  mind  the  maestro, 
in  all  things,  or  thou  knowest  what  will  happen 
on  thy  return." 

Martina  stood  in  the  doorway  of  her  small 
shanty,  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand,  as  she 
watched  the  two  walking  briskly  away  from  her 
along  the  road  toward  the  tiny  adobe '  schoolhouse, 
a  hundred  yards  away. 

"  I  do  not  care,"  she  muttered  to  herself,  "they 
may  say  what  they  please.  She  is  pretty  and 
gentle,  and  her  scholars  are  learning  better  than 

1  Schoolmistress.  *  A  large  sun-dried  brick. 


A  MOUNTAIN  WAIF.  17 

Don  Gregorio's  boys,  who  have  been  at  their  a-b 
abs  for  three  months  already.  Of  course  she  is  a 
Protestant,  but  Juanito  is  young  yet,  and  she 
will  do  him  no  harm.  And  who  knows?  He 
will  be  learning  English  soon,  and  then,  some 
day,  he  will  go  to  the  States  to  work,  and  become 
a  rich  man,  perhaps  as  rich  as  our  Don  Bduardo. 
Ah !  I  have  many  desires  to  see  our  Juanito  a  rich 
man.  Hark,"  she  continued,  "the  mistress  is 
going  to  sing. " 

Heavy  footsteps  came  behind  her,  shuffling 
over  the  uneven  dirt  floor  of  the  hut,  and  a  gaunt, 
unhealthy  looking  man  joined  her  in  the  doorway, 
and  opened  his  mouth  to  speak,  just  as  a  strain  of 
music  issued  from  the  schoolhouse  door.  Mary 
Summers  was  playing  on  the  tiny  organ  the  open- 
ing bars  of  a  hymn,  and  immediately  her  clear 
strong  voice  led  the  scholars  in  singing  in  Span- 
ish, "  What  a  Friend  we  have  in  Jesus." 

Several  forms  appeared  at  the  doors  along  the 
road  nearer  the  schoolhouse  than  Martina's,  and 
one  or  two  listened  until  the  entire  hymn  was 
sung.  The  ranch  was  very  quiet  at  this  time  of 
the  morning,  as  all  the  men  who  could  work  had 
long  since  gone  to  the  adjoining  plantations  to 
gather  in  the  bean  crop,  which  was  to  form  the 
principal  food  for  their  families  during  the  coming 
winter.  The  boys  who  could  be  spared  from  this 
task  were  usually  at  this  time  huddled  in  Don 
Gregorio's  schoolroom,  just  across  the  way  from 

B 


l8  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

the  mission  house,  and  some  of  the  mothers  and 
daughters  were  engaged  in  grinding  the  corn  for 
the  midday  tortillas  (Mexican  corn  cakes),  while 
others  went  to  the  tiny  rivulet  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  ranch  to  do  the  weekly  washing. 

Usually  Don  Gregorio's  boys  were  incited  to 
louder  study  than  usual,  during  the  half-hour 
which  Mary  gave  to  the  opening  exercises  of  her 
little  school,  and  their  loud  sing-song  rendering 
of  the  silabario,  or  syllable-book,  in  concert, 
Mexican  fashion,  often  drowned  the  feeble  voices 
of  Mary's  youthful  choir.  This  morning,  how- 
ever, Don  Gregorio  was  late,  and  he  came  hurry- 
ing down  the  road  from  El  Porvenir,  a  little 
neighboring  ranch,  just  in  time  to  hear  the  closing 
words  of  the  song  and  to  find  his  boys  all  clustered 
eagerly  about  the  door  of  Mary's  schoolroom. 

Old  Dona  Catarina,  toothless  and  almost  deaf, 
sat  in  the  sun  near  the  schoolhouse  door  and  told 
her  beads  vigorously  as  the  music  floated  past  her 
dull  ears,  while  farther  on,  a  young  woman  nurs- 
ing her  baby  caught  up  the  words  of  the  song, 
and  gently  crooned  them  into  her  little  one's  ear  : 

"  Estas  debil  y  cargado 
De  cuidados  y  temor  ?  " 

"Yes,  L,ord,"  she  murmured,  "  thou  knowest  it. 
Thou  knowest  that  I  am  '  burdened  with  care  and 
fear.'" 

"  Take  it  to  the  Lord  in  prayer," 

sang  the  children. 


A   MOUNTAIN  WAIF.  IQ 

<(  Dear  Jesus,"  she  prayed,  under  her  breath, 
"  the  little  teacher  says  I  may  tell  it  all  to  thee. 
Thou  knowest  my  fear  of  Pedro,  and  that  he  says 
he  will  take  my  Concha  away  from  me  and  give 
her  to  the  sisters  in  Hermosa,  if  I  listen  any  more 
to  the  beautiful  stories  the  little  maestro,  tells. 
Tell  me,  Son  of  Mary,  what  shall  I  do  ?  " 

"You  miserable  little  dogs!"  screamed  Don 
Gregorio,  when  he  came  within  calling  distance 
of  his  reprobate  little  flock,  gathered  outside  of 
Mary's  door  ;  "  I'll  teach  you  how  to  sing  another 
tune,  that  the  little  hypocrite  in  there  knows 
nothing  of.  Come,  come,  I  say,  every  one  of  you, 
and  I  shall  give  you  a  singing  lesson  of  my  own 
this  morning." 

"  Poor  little  ones,  poor  little  men ! "  sighed 
Mary  to  herself,  as  she  closed  the  organ  and 
opened  her  Bible  for  the  morning  lesson.  Before 
she  found  her  place  for  reading,  sharp  cries 
sounded  across  the  road  as  the  schoolmaster's 
keen  lash  fell  swiftly  upon  the  shrinking  shoulders 
of  one  after  another  of  the  weeping  children  who 
had  been  caught  in  such  dire  disgrace.  Don  Gre- 
gorio and  each  small  victim  stood  in  full  view  of 
Mary  and  her  band  of  adorers,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  street,  and  the  sight  proving  too  inter- 
esting to  her  children,  she  arose  and  closed  the 
door ;  opening  for  light  and  air  another,  which 
looked  out  over  the  sunny  prairie  stretching 
toward  the  west. 


20  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

The  sclioolhouse  consisted  of  but  one  small 
room,  with  the  customary  dirt  floor  now  worn 
into  holes  here  and  there  by  the  dripping  of 
water  from  the  leaky  roof  in  the  rainy  season. 
The  room  was  also  used  as  a  meeting-house  6n 
Sundays  for  the  Protestant  people  of  the  ranch, 
and  was  filled  with  rough  wooden  benches,  and 
lighted  by  the  two  doors  during  the  day,  and  by 
two  or  three  kerosene  lamps  by  night. 

Mary's  pupils  filled  two  long  benches,  and  had 
numbered  nineteen  until  this  morning,  when 
Juanito  made  the  twentieth.  She  took  her  seat 
in  a  low  splint-bottomed  chair,  and  opened  her 
Bible,  while  her  little  scholars  were  all  attention, 
for  the  cries  across  the  way  had  ceased  when  she 
closed  the  door.  Drawing  Juanito  close  to  her 
side,  she  read,  slowly  and  clearly,  the  first  seven- 
teen verses  of  the  tenth  chapter  of  John,  and 
then  all  joined  with  her  in  repeating,  "  Our 
Father."  After  this  Mary  offered  a  short,  simple 
prayer  of  her  own,  in  which  she  mentioned  the 
new  scholar's  name. 

When  they  arose  from  their  knees,  Juanito's 
bright  eyes  were  fixed  upon  hers,  and  he  laid  a 
small  hand  upon  her  knee. 

"Senorita,"  said  he,  boldly,  "  to  whom  were 
you  talking  about  me?  You  said  'Juanito,'  and 
there  is  no  other  Juanito  here,"  looking  up  and 
down  the  line  of  girl  faces,  and  pausing  at  the 
end  of  a  bench  where  Carlos  was  sitting. 


A   MOUNTAIN   WAIF.  21 

"  I  was  telling  our  Father  about  you,  little  one," 
replied  she,  "  and  I  asked  that  he  would  bless  you 
and  make  you  a  good,  obedient  scholar,  so  that 
you  might  grow  to  be  a  great  and  useful  man." 

"  Our  Father  is  God,  Juan,"  interposed  Carlos. 
"  Thou  knowest  nothing  yet,  but  the  senorita  will 
teach  thee." 

"  I  know  that  thou  art  a  little  fool,  Carlitos," 
returned  Juanito  ;  "  every  one  says  so,  and  I  shall 
not  stay  here  to  be  taught  by  thee"  And  throw- 
ing an  indignant  look  upon  his  small  associate,  he 
was  marching  from  the  room. 

"So  you  will  leave  us,  Juanito,"  asked  Mary, 
briskly,  "just  when  we  were  going  to  look  at 
some  beautiful  pictures  of  the  most  wonderful 
animals  in  the  world  ?  Well,' '  she  continued,  "  be 
sure  and  tell  your  mamma  just  how  it  was,  and 
tell  her  that  I  am  sorry  you  did  not  like  to  stay 
with  us.  Come,  children,"  she  continued,  as  she 
saw  that  the  little  fellow  still  lingered  at  the  door, 
"you  may  each  ask  one  question  about  the  first 
picture,  and  we  shall  begin  with  Carlos,  because 
he  is  the  only  boy  we  have  at  school  to-day." 
This  was  said  with  a  sorrowful  glance  at  the 
already  repentant  Juan  outside. 

She  then  stepped  to  the  end  wall  of  the  room 
and  hung  a  brilliantly  colored  print  of  an  elephant 
prancing  through  an  Indian  jungle,  with  very 
minute  Indian  huntsmen  crouching  behind  the 
trees  and  grasses.  By  this  time,  Juan  stood  just 


22  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

within  the  doorway  and  was  devouring  the  bright 
picture  with  eager  eyes,  the  other  children  being 
too  absorbed  in  watching  the  teacher's  movements 
to  notice  him. 

"Now,  Carlos,"  she  said.  And  stepping  near 
where  Juan  stood,  she  laid  her  hand  upon  his 
black  curls.  Question  after  question  followed 
from  the  gay  little  class,  and  Mary's  wits  were 
kept  busy  answering  the  very  wise,  and  often  very 
foolish,  queries  that  were  put  to  her.  Even  Juan 
forgot  himself  so  far  as  to  ask  if  the  elephant  could 
swirn,  that  art  being  the  height  of  an  ambition  of 
his  own  as  yet  unattained.  After  the  picture  had 
been  thoroughly  discussed,  the  day's  studies  were 
begun  with  blackboard  and  slate  exercises  in 
arithmetic.  Other  lessons  followed  until  the 
hubbub  of  the  men  returning  from  their  work 
announced  the  hour  of  twelve,  and  then  Mary 
dismissed  her  little  school  and  all  went  to  their 
respective  homes  for  the  two  hours  of  intermission 
before  the  afternoon  session.  Mary  walked  with 
Juanito  to  his  mother's  door,  where  they  found 
Dona  Martina  Vera  eagerly  awaiting  them. 

"  Well,  maestra,"  she  cried,  "  will  he  do  ?  Will 
my  boy  learn,  and  will  he  be  a  great  man  ?  " 

4 'Ah,  Dona  Martina,"  was  the  reply,  "  how  can 
I  tell?  Let  him  come  to  me  every  day,  and  I 
shall  teach  him  and  he  will  learn,  and  God  will 
make  him  a  good  man,  if  he  wishes  to  be  good, 
and  that  is  better  than  being  great."  She  nodded 


A   MOUNTAIN  WAIF.  23 

pleasantly  to  the  woman  and  went  on  to  her  own 
house  farther  along. 

Then  Juanito  recounted  every  incident  of  the 
day,  dwelling  with  particular  emphasis  upon  his 
encounter  with  Carlos,  the  son  of  one  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  little  Baptist  church.  He  and  his 
whole  family  were  held  in  great  contempt  by  most 
of  the  Vera  family,  and  for  a  moment  the  mother 
clenched  her  hand  and  was  on  the  point  of  pouring 
forth  a  torrent  of  abuse  upon  the  absent  one's 
head,  when  she  remembered  her  newly  awakened 
ambition  for  Juan,  and  changing  her  manner,  she 
said: 

' '  Well,  never  mind  Carlos,  my  only  one  ;  be 
more  attentive  than  he,  study  harder  than  he,  and 
thou  wilt  be  a  greater  man  than  he.  Now,  tell 
me  of  the  senorita ;  thou  lovest  her  already,  my 
son?" 

"Ah,  yes,"  he  replied.  "She  is  not  cross  as 
thou  art,  sometimes ;  and  mother,  she  talked  to 
some  one  who  was  not  there  about  me,  and  said 
that  I  must  be  obedient,  and  that  then  I  should 
be  a  great  man.  I  ain  glad,  for  I  am  so  tired  of 
being  small,  and  I  wish  to  be  called  Juan,  not 
Juanito" 1 

Meanwhile,  Miss  Summers  had  reached  the 
great  gateway  leading  into  the  courtyard  of  Don 
Eduardo's  house,  where  she  was  spending  her  first 
year  of  mission  life.  She  crossed  the  sunny  space 

1  John,  not  Johnny. 


24  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

between  the  gate  and  the  door  of  her  room  very 
thoughtfully,  and  upon  entering  the  dim  little 
anteroom  which  led  into  her  bedroom,  she  sat 
down  in  the  first  chair  in  her  way,  threw  off  her 
large  shade  hat,  and  resting  her  chin  in  the  palm 
of  her  hand  and  her  elbow  on  the  table,  fell  into 
deep  thought.  In  some  respects,  this  fair  October 
day,  which  had  dawned  bright  and  cloudless  as 
all  the  other  days  of  her  stay  at  San  Bernabe*,  gave 
promise  of  better  things  than  she  had  dreamed  of 
after  the  first  few  disappointing  weeks  of  her  life 
at  the  ranch. 

Until  to-day,  her  little  school,  the  object  of  so 
much  prayer  and  thought,  had  consisted  only  of 
the  children  of  the  baptized  members  of  the  small 
band  of  Protestants  in  the  ranch  ;  and  while  she 
labored  joyfully  with  these,  and  had  already  en- 
deared herself  to  the  parents  by  her  untiring  care 
for  the  small  brown  bodies,  as  well  as  for  the 
diminutive  brains  of  their  children,  her  own  heart 
was  aching  over  the  "oppressed"  mothers  and 
daughters  in  the  Roman  Catholic  faith,  who  had 
yet  to  realize  the  burdens  oppressing  them  before 
they  could  be  taught  to  even  desire  to  enter  the 
''glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God."  Now  to- 
day, Juanito  Vera  had  been  given  to  her,  and  the 
recollection  of  his  bright,  brown  eyes  and  the 
warm  clasp  of  the  little  hand  gave  her  a  happy 
thrill  of  thankfulness. 

"  He  shall  love  me,"  she  exclaimed  aloud,  "and 


A  MOUNTAIN  WAIF.  25 

through  him  I  shall  enter  his  mother's  house,  and 
through  him  I  shall  gain  his  mother's  heart.  I 
must  work  patiently  and  slowly."  She  raised 
her  head  as  she  spoke  and  became  aware  of  a  soft, 
dark  eye  fixed  upon  her  from  a  small  opening  in 
the  door,  which  served  to  let  a  little  light  into  the 
windowless  room.  As  she  was  about  to  speak,  the 
eye  and  a  shock  of  black  hair  were  hastily  with- 
drawn, and  a  clatter  of  dishes  and  tongues  outside 
the  door  drowned  her  words  of  inquiry. 

"  The  senorita  !  What  dost  thou  want  with  the 
senorita  ?  And  who  art  thou,  putting  thyself  and 
thy  rags  into  this  house  ?  Dost  thou  not  know 
that  this  is  Don  Eduardo's  house,  and  that  the 
dogs  of  rancheros  stay  outside  unless  invited  to 
enter?" 

The  door  was  thrown  hastily  open  and  a  young 
Mexican  woman  entered,  bearing  a  waiter  of  cov- 
ered dishes  on  one  arm,  while  with  the  other  she 
kept  off  a  poor,  emaciated  creature,  who  tried  to 
follow  her  into  the  room. 

' '  Quick  !  Help  me  shut  the  door,  Senorita 
Maria,  or  she  will  get  in,  and  she  is  not  fit " 

"  Stand  aside,  Petra,"  returned  Miss  Summers, 
"  and  let  me  see  who  it  is.  Why,  she  is  starving, 
poor  thing;  only  look  at  these  poor  arms  and 
hands  ! "  And  she  bent,  almost  in  tears,  over  the 
form  of  a  young  girl  who  had  fallen  prostrate 
across  the  threshold. 

"  Then,  why  did  she  not  go  to  the  kitchen,  if 


26  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

she  wanted  food?  Go,"  she  said,  not  unkindly, 
"  to  the  cocinaf  and  I  will  give  thee  food,  as  soon 
as  I  have  arranged  the  senorita's  dinner." 

"  No,  no  !  "  gasped  the  girl.  "  The  maestro, — 
I  came — over — the  mountain — I  am — sick — She 

will  cure  me "  She  caught  at  Mary's  dress 

with  her  dirty,  claw-like  fingers,  and  then  fainted 
away.  Petra,  whose  heart  was  not  so  hard  as  her 
words,  brought  the  water  that  Mary  called  for,  and 
bathed  the  poor  dusty  face  and  hands,  while  the 
teacher  went  to  her  medicine  closet  and  poured  a 
small  quantity  of  a  cordial  into  a  glass.  Mixing 
this  with  a  little  water,  she  gave  it,  a  spoonful  at  a 
time,  to  the  girl,  who  was  already  reviving,  and 
in  a  few  moments  was  able  to  raise  her  head  and 
look  about  her. 

"Now,  Petra,"  said  Miss  Summers,  "help  me 
to  carry  her  inside,  and  then  we  will  give  her  a 
little  soup,  and  she  will  sleep." 

"  Impossible,  senorita, "  replied  Petra,  who,  as 
eldest  daughter  of  the  house  and  faithful  wor- 
shiper of  the  young  foreigner,  resented  what  she 
considered  such  an  intrusion.  "  Let  me  take  her 
with  me.  She  can  rest  on  my  petate." 

A  look  of  pathetic  appeal  came  from  the  sad, 
brown  eyes,  lifted  to  hers  from  the  floor,  and 
another  clutch  of  the  wasted  fingers  at  her  skirts 
decided  Mary,  and  she  told  Petra  to  bring  in  a 
clean,  new  petate  (a  sleeping  mat,  woven  soft  and 

1  Kitchen. 


A   MOUNTAIN   WAIF.  27 

thick),  and  together  they  lifted  the  slight  form 
and  placed  it  upon  the  mat,  in  a  cool  corner  of 
the  outer  room.  Here  the  poor  creature  lay, 
watching  Mary  with  great,  hungry  eyes,  as  she 
crumbled  a  bit  of  bread  into  a  cup  of  the  broth 
which  formed  a  part  of  her  own  dinner.  Then, 
Petra  having  returned  to  her  kitchen  and  the 
family  dinner,  Mary  closed  the  door,  and  taking  a 
low  stool,  sat  beside  the  famished  girl  and  slowly 
fed  her  from  the  cup  of  broth.  The  last  spoon- 
ful was  hardly  swallowed  before  the  heavy  eye- 
lids closed  and  the  girl  slept. 

Then  the  young  teacher  sat  down  to  her  own 
dinner,  tired  and  hungry,  with  the  appetite  that 
comes  sometimes  to  healthy  young  people,  after  a 
busy  morning's  work.  The  snowy  cloth  and 
napkin,  white  china  plate,  silver  knife  and  fork, 
and  dainty  goblet  were  among  the  few  simple 
luxuries  which  the  young  missionary  allowed 
herself  in  her  far-away  Mexican  home,  and  in- 
congruous as  they  often  seemed,  with  the  some- 
times unappetizing  Mexican  food  supplied  from 
the  kitchen  of  her  host,  she  never  omitted  the 
smallest  detail  of  her  pretty  table-service.  Set- 
ting aside  the  remaining  broth  for  the  sick  girl's 
needs,  later  on,  she  ate  the  toasted  tortillas  and 
baked  beans,  the  deliciously  prepared  rice,  and  a 
dish  of  scrambled  eggs,  ending  with  a  glass  of 
goat's  milk  and  a  bit  of  goat's-milk  cheese,  and 
then  pushed  back  her  chair,  wondering  what  she 


28  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

was  to  do  with  her  helpless-looking  protkgb, 
while  absent  at  the  afternoon  school. 

Who  was  she?  Why  had  she  come  to  her? 
were  questions  unanswerable  so  long  as  that  deep 
sleep  held  her  motionless  and  speechless. 

When  Petra  returned  for  the  dishes,  she  brought 
a  pan  of  hot  water,  which  she  placed  on  a  side 
table,  and  while  gathering  up  the  remains  of  the 
dinner,  she  examined  the  new-comer  with  half- 
unfavorable  eyes.  Mary  was  silently  washing 
her  plate,  knife,  and  fork  in  the  water  which 
Petra  had  brought,  watching  quietly  on  her  part 
the  face  of  the  good-natured  Mexican  woman, 
who  she  knew  would  not  long  hold  out  against 
the  pitiful  creature  in  the  corner. 

Petra  spoke  first,  and  softly  : 

"She  looks  very  tired,  sefiorita.  What  shall 
we  do  with  her?  " 

"I^eave  her  where  she  is,  for  the  present,"  re- 
plied Mary,  as  softly.  "  She  will  probably  sleep 
all  the  afternoon.  When  she  wakes  she  must 
have  a  bath  and  something  clean  to  put  on,  in 
the  place  of  these  rags.  After  that  she  will  tell 
me  what  she  wants  of  me." 

"  A  bath,  sefiorita,  and  she  so  weak  and  sick  ; 
it  will  kill  her !  " 

"  No,  Petrita.  You  will  see  that  it  will  not 
kill  her.  And  you  will  help  me  about  this,  I  am 
sure.  Get  one  of  the  boys  to  draw  water  for  the 
bath,  and  in  a  few  hours  the  sun  will  warm  it 


A  MOUNTAIN  WAIF.  2Q 

nicely.  By  the  time  I  return  from  school  it  will 
be  ready  and  she  will  probably  be  awake.  Let 
her  sleep,  Petra,  I  have  no  medicine  so  good  for 
her  in  my  closet  as  this  sleep  will  be.  Be  so  kind 
as  to  look  in  upon  her  occasionally,  while  I  am 
away.  And  remember,  my  dear,"  she  concluded, 
"this  poor  creature  may  be  one  of  the  'very 
least '  of  the  Lord's  servants,  of  whom  we  were 
reading  last  night,  and  we  could  not  hesitate  to 
do  it  for  him,  if  he  lay  there  sick  and  travel- 
worn,  would  we?" 

"At  least  let  me  lock  the  door  between  your 
rooms,  senorita  mia"  said  Petra.  "  For  we 
really  do  not  know  who  she  is,  and  it  can  do  her 
no  harm.  Yes,  I'll  look  after  her,"  she  con- 
tinued, more  graciously,  lifting  the  waiter  from 
the  table,  "  and  I  suppose  she  will  have  to  stay 
where  she  is  for  the  present,  though  I  would 
rather  have  her  out  of  here.  Senorita,  you  do 
not  understand.  Her  clothing  is  full  of  animals, 
and " 

"  Never  mind  now,"  returned  Mary,  with  a 
shudder.  "  We  will  attend  to  all  that  when  she 
awakes.  Close  the  door  and  leave  her  now,  and 
I  must  hurry  off  to  school." 

A  hot  wind  was  blowing  over  the  plains,  and 
the  glare  from  the  road  was  so  blinding  that 
Mary  almost  stumbled  along  the  short  stretch 
that  lay  between  her  rooms  and  the  schoolroom. 
Juanito  was  shyly  awaiting  her  as  she  passed  his 


30  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

cottage,  but  his  hand  was  unwashed  and  greasy 
now,  and  the  little,  coarse  white  shirt  that  had 
been  immaculate  in  the  morning,  showed  signs 
of  "  bean  gravy  "  down  its  front.  Nothing,  how- 
ever, could  dim  the  brightness  of  the  eyes  lifted 
to  hers,  and  she  sent  him  gayly  on  ahead  of  her 
to  ring  the  bell  that  was  hung  between  two  posts, 
just  outside  the  schoolroom  door.  The  children 
were  a  little  less  punctual  than  in  the  morning, 
and  only  a  dozen  finally  collected  in  the  hot,  little 
room,  and  settled  restlessly  on  the  hard  benches 
in  front  of  Mary's  chair  and  table. 

"  Oh,  dear !  Sara,  why  did  you  bring  the 
baby?"  exclaimed  Mary,  as  a  fretful  cry  sounded 
from  beneath  the  cotton  scarf  thrown  around  the 
head  and  shoulders  of  the  largest  of  the  girls,  a 
child  of  thirteen  years.  "  You  know  I  told  you  to 
stay  at  home  with  him  if  you  could  not  leave  him, 
for  you  cannot  study  with  him  in  your  arms,  and 
he  makes  all  the  rest  laugh.  You  would  better 
take  him  home,  Sara." 

"  Oh,  senorita,"  protested  the  child,  "  he  will 
be  quiet  to-day,  because  he  is  sick.  He  has  hardly 
cried  at  all  to-day,  mamma  says,  and  she  told  me 
to  bring  him  because  she  had  to  go  to  the  river, 
and  papa  is  very  drunk  to-day,  and  I  was  afraid 
to  "stay." 

"  Herculano  drunk  again  ! "  said  the  teacher, 
with  a  sigh.  "  Well,  stay,  of  course  ;  but  if  the  baby 
cries,  you  must  take  him  out  in  the  shade.  Per- 


A   MOUNTAIN  WAIF.  3! 

haps  he  will  sleep,  poor  thing  !  "  she  murmured, 
as  she  turned  back  the  shawl  and  saw  the  pale 
face  of  the  sick  child,  a  pretty  baby  of  a  year. 

He  did  sleep  soon,  and  Sara  laid  him  on  the 
floor,  with  her  scarf  for  a  pillow.  By-and-by  he 
awaked,  and  grew  so  restless  that  Mary  was  forced 
to  dismiss  them  from  the  room  for  the  remaining 
hour  of  lessons. 

She  made  the  exercises  as  simple  and  interest- 
ing as  possible  that  afternoon,  and  at  four  o'clock 
the  children  gathered  about  her,  each  eager  to 
repeat  the  Bible  verse  learned  the  afternoon  be- 
fore. 

When  Juan's  turn  came,  she  was  about  to  teach 
him  a  short  verse,  when,  to  her  amazement,  he 
opened  his  red  lips  and  repeated  one  of  the  verses 
she  had  read  to  the  children  in  the  morning  : 
"  Yo  soy  el  buen  pastor :  el  pastor  su  alma  da  por 
las  ovejas."  l 

"  Juanito' s  papa  is  a  shepherd,  senorita,"  ex- 
plained the  irrepressible  Carlos.  ' '  That  is  why 
he  likes  that  verse." 

"And  who  is  the  Good  Shepherd,  Juanito?" 
asked  Mary  tenderly  of  the  little  boy. 

"  My  papa  is  a  shepherd,  but  he  is  not  good," 
replied  Juanito,  sadly. 

"  You  asked  me  this  morning  to  whom  I  was 
talking  about  you  in  the  prayer  ;  you  remember, 

1  "  I  am  the  good  shepherd ;  the  good  shepherd  gives  his  life  for 
the  sheep." 


32  A   MEXICAN  RANCH. 

Juanito.  It  was  the  Good  Shepherd,  dear,  a"nd 
you  are  to  be  one  of  his  little  lambs,  one  of  the 
new  little  lambs,  because  you  are  just  beginning  to 
learn  about  him.  Now,  before  we  go  home,  we 
will  sing  about  this  Good  Shepherd.  All  of  you 
know  the  first  verse  by  heart.  Come." 

"Oh,  I  am  glad  we  shall  sing  that  song," 
said  Sara,  who  had  returned  at  the  first  sign  of 
bustle  in  the  room,  "  because  little  brother  likes 
it  so  much.  He  always  knows  when  I  sing  it." 
And  she  hugged  the  small  figure  in  her  arms,  and 
no  weariness  showed  in  her  face,  although  her 
thin  arms  must  have  ached,  small  as  their  burden 
was.  In  truth,  the  baby  did  look  brighter,  and 
waved  his  arms  in  the  air  approvingly,  as  the 
children's  voices  joined  in  the  song,  which  was 
the  twenty-third  Psalm  in  easy  rhyme  : 

"  Jesus  es  mi  pastor 
Nada  me  faltara. 
Su  deleitosa  paz, 
Me  regocija  ya,"  etc. 

As  she  locked  the  schoolhouse  door  when  the 
children  were  gone,  a  dismal  chanting  sound 
issued  from  the  opposite  schoolroom,  and  again 
she  sighed,  "  Poor  little  fellows  !  "  as  she  remem- 
bered that  an  hour  or  two  more  would  be  required 
of  them  in  that  dingy  room  while  the  master 
slept,  to  be  awakened  by  any  cessation  in  the 
sleepy  droning  of  the  scholars. 


SARA  AMD  HER  LITTLE  BROTHER.  Page  32. 


A   MOUNTAIN   WAIF.  33 

"I  wish  it  was  to-morrow  already,  maestra" 
said  Juanito,  as  she  was  leaving  him  at  his  door. 
"  You  will  call  me  Juan  always,  will  you  not, 
senorita?"  he  added. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  little  man,"  she  replied.  "Adiosj- 
Juan,  and  be  ready  to  ring  the  bell  for  me  to- 
morrow," she  called,  as  she  hurried  away. 

1  Good-bye. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  WAIF'S  STORY. 

Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  my 
brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me. — Matt.  25  :  40. 

rTHE  sick  girl  lifted  her  head  as  Mary  entered 
1  the  room  where  she  lay,  and  a  lovely  smile 
broke  over  her  face.  Mary  nodded  cheerfully  to 
her  and,  then  without  speaking,  lighted  a  small 
oil  stove  standing  on  the  side  table.  Then,  after 
pouring  the  remains  of  the  broth  into  a  tin  pan 
and  setting  it  on  the  stove,  she  went  into  the  bed- 
room which  opened  out  of  the  other.  From  a 
trunk  she  selected  a  complete  suit  of  clothing, 
half- worn,  yet  whole  and  clean.  These,  with  a 
cake  of  soap  and  towels,  she  carried  out  to  the  cur- 
tained corner  of  the  yard,  where  stood  the  bath, 
an  immense  earthenware  tub,  full  of  sun-warmed 
water.  Leaving  the  articles  in  care  of  Petra,  who 
was  sitting  with  her  sewing  near  by,  awaiting  the 
victim  of  the  bath,  the  young  teacher  returned  to 
the  house  and  found  the  broth  hot  and  the  invalid 
sitting  up,  watching  the  steaming  pan  with  eager 
eyes. 

"  You  may  feed  yourself  this  time,"  said  Mary, 
handing  her  a  cupful  of  the  soup  and  a  couple  of 

34 


THE  WAIF'S  STORY.  35 

tortillas ;  "then  you  may  rest  again  for  an  hour 
before  taking  your  bath." 

Mary  then  busied  herself  in  the  inner  room  for 
a  while  and  left  the  sick  girl  again  in  quiet. 

When  Petra  came  to  report  that  all  was  ready, 
and  that  she  had  added  a  little  hot  water  to  take 
the  chill  from  the  bath,  the  girl  arose  feebly  and, 
with  Petra's  assistance,  disappeared  behind  the 
curtains.  Mary  smiled  as  she  realized  what  the 
extent  of  her  influence  must  be  to  induce  a  sick 
Mexican  to  walk  uncomplainingly  to  a  bath  tub. 
The  use  of  water  in  sickness  is  considered  by 
them  to  be  very  dangerous,  the  hands  and  face  of 
a  fever  patient  being  left  unwashed  for  weeks. 
And  even  in  health,  though  in  most  Mexican 
towns  there  are  ample  and  luxurious  public  baths, 
the  average  citizen  considers  the  weekly  bath 
sufficient. 

A  very  subdued,  though  very  clean,  young  girl 
limped  back  to  her  mat  a  half-hour  later.  Her 
black  hair  hung  in  long,  wet  strings  over  her 
shoulders,  and  Mary  found  her  face  and  hands  so 
chilled,  and  her  lips  so  cold  and  bloodless,  that  she 
administered  a  little  more  of  the  cordial  and  water. 

Then  she  learned  from  her  the  following  simple 
story,  which  was  supplemented  by  facts  learned 
months  afterward  from  the  missionary  himself: 

A  month  before,  Mr.  Richards,  the  senior  mis- 
sionary, having  his  headquarters  at  S ,  the 

city  of  which  San  Bernabe  was  a  branch  mission, 


36  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

had  passed  through  the  little  hamlet  of  I/as  Bellas 
Flores,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the.  mountain 
bounding  San  Bernabe  on  the  east.  Here  he  had 
held  a  preaching  service  in  the  evening,  as  was 
his  custom  on  his  mission  tours,  whenever  a  room 
and  lights  could  be  had.  He  had  been  attracted 
by  the  sight  of  a  feeble,  emaciated  girl  who 
crouched  on  the  floor  near  the  door  and  eagerly 
listened  to  the  songs  and  to  his  simple  sermon. 
After  the  sermon,  he  had  made  inquiries  of  his 
host  in  whose  house  he  had  preached  and  learned 
that  the  girl  was  Refugio  Aguirre,  and  that  she 
was  an  orphan,  living  with  cousins,  who,  as  was 
evident  from  the  girl's  condition  of  body  and  dress, 
were  none  too  willing  to  give  her  support.  Some 
even  said  that  Refugio  was  but  half-witted,  and 
was  not  worth  the  scraps  of  tortillas  thrown  to 
her  every  day  by  her  grudging  relatives.  This 
intelligence  surprised  Mr.  Richards  very  much, 
for  he  thought  he  had  discovered,  as  the  most 
redeeming  traits  of  the  Mexican  character,  their 
loyalty  to  blood  relations  and  charity  to  suffering 
friends. 

"Oh,"  remarked  the  host,  when  Mr.  Richards 
had  expressed  this  surprise  to  him,  "  this  case  is 
different  We  do  not  know  exactly  how  it  is,  for 
the  Aguirres  are  silent  folks ;  but  the  fault  is  not 
Refugio's,  though  only  she  is  left  to  bear  the 
blame.  Now  they  say  that  she  is  going  into  a 
decline,  but  my  wife  says  that  it  is  only  hunger 


THE  WAIF'S  STORY.  37 

that  pinches  her  cheeks,  and  tmhappiness  that 
gives  the  stupid  look  to  her  eyes.  She  has  been 
taught  to  read,  but  little  good  that  does  one  when 
the  stomach  is  always  empty." 

"  Poor  child !  "  said  the  missionary.  "  Here 
would  be  work  for  Miss  Summers,  if  only  a 
mountain  did  not  stand  in  the  way." 

The  next  day,  as  he -stepped  out  into  the  sunny 
plaza  upon  which  his  host's  door  opened,  he 
almost  stumbled  over  what  at  first  seemed  a  heap 
of  rags  lying  beyond  the  door  sill. 

"Ah,  Refugio  mia!"  he  exclaimed,  recognizing 
in  a  moment  the  soft,  liquid  eyes  raised  appeal- 
ingly  to  his  own.  ' '  What  are  you  doing,  little 
one,  lying  on  the  ground?  Come  with  me,  and 
while  we  sit  upon  the  seat  in  the  plaza,  you  will 
tell  me  what  ails  you." 

Her  first  question,  as  they  sat  side  by  side  near 
the  brink  of  the  little  dripping  fountain,  was  a 
surprise. 

"  Would  he  cure  me  too,  that  man,  and  would 
he  help  me  to  sin  no  more,  maestro? " 

Seeing  that  the  girl  must  be  thinking  of  the 
simple  discourse  of  the  night  before,  he  humored 
her  direct  simplicity  and  followed  her  lead  with- 
out further  introduction. 

' '  Certainly,  my  dear  child.  If  he  were  walking 
right  by  us  now,  and  if  you  should  ask  him  to 
cure  you,  he  could  do  so,  and  I  have  no  doubt  he 
would." 


38  A    MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"  But  lie  is  not  here,"  she  replied.  "  You  said 
that  he  is  dead.  Oh,  I  do  not  want  him  to  be 
dead  ;  I  want  to  be  well  !  "  she  moaned. 

"Did  you  suppose  that  the  Lord  Jesus  is  really 
dead,  Refugio?  But  then  you  have  only  seen  the 
form  of  the  dead  Jesus  on  the  cross,"  he  added. 

"Jesus!  Yes,"  replied  the  girl,  scornfully. 
"  Much  good  he  has  ever  done  me  !  Were  you 
telling  us  about  him  last  night?  If  I  had  known 
that,  I  would  not  have  stayed  a  moment,"  she 
ended,  passionately. 

"  But  I  called  him  by  the  names  by  which  we 
know  our  Lord,  Refugio.  You  heard  me?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  you  spoke  of  Jesus;  of  course  one 
must  in  a  sermon  ;  but  you  also  told  of  a  man 
who  loved  bad,  sick  people  more  than  he  loved 
himself,  who  touched  them  with  his  own  hands 
when  they  were  foul  with  disease,  and  who  talked 
with  them  when  they  were  so  wicked  that  even 
their  own  relations  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
them.  And  I  knew  that  could  not  be  Jesus,  for 
he  is  only  a  picture  or  a  piece  of  wood  shaped  like 
a  man,  and  he  is  always  so  angry  that  the  Mary 
mother  has  to  beg  him  to  let  us  enter  heaven 
where  he  is.  Now,  /  would  rather  go  where  the 
others  go,  even  if  it  be  to  the  infierno?  than  to 
have  to  beg  my  way  to  heaven  of  Mary." 

"Ah,"  thought  Mr.  Richards,  as  the  girl  paused 
for  breath,  and  then  left  his  side  to  seize  the  tin 

*  Hell. 


THE  WAIF'S  STORY.  39 

dipper  hanging  by  the  fountain  and  drink  fever- 
ishly of  the  clear,  cold  water,  "what  depths  of 
neglect  have  brought  this  child  to  such  a  condi- 
tion and  such  thoughts  !  If  her  relations  do  not 
care  any  more  for  her  than  they  seem  to  have 
done,  they  will  be  glad  to  be  rid  of  her,  and  I 
shall  find  some  means  of  carrying  her  to  Miss 
Summers  on  my  next  trip  through  here." 

Then,  when  the  girl  returned  to  his  side,  he,  as 
gently  and  as  simply  as  possible,  tried  to  remove 
her  great  misconception  of  the  character  of  the 
Saviour,  and  made  her  promise  that  she  would 
pray  to  him  and  to  him  alone  until  he  should  see 
her  again.  He  told  her  of  the  beautiful  young 
lady  across  the  mountain  at  San  Bernabe,  of  how 
she  loved  the  Mexican  women,  of  her  skill  in 
nursing  the  sick,  and  of  the  beautiful  songs  she 
sang. 

"  The  Saviour  is  dead,  Refugio,  as  you  say ; 
that  is,  he  is  not  here  in  the  body  as  he  was  when 
he  went  about  on  the  earth  doing  good,  but  he 
still  lives  in  heaven  and  in  Christian  people  like 
the  Seiiorita  Maria.  She  could  teach  you  better 
than  I.  Would  you  like  to  go  to  San  Bernabe 
and  live  with  her,  and  learn  to  be  like  her  and 
help  her  to  do  the  Saviour's  work  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  should  almost  die  of  happiness ! "  gasped 
the  poor  girl. 

The  missionary  now  saw  that  his  horse  and 
servant  were  ready,  and  after  promising  Refugio 


40  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

that  it  should  not  be  many  weeks  before  he  should 
see  the  Seiiorita  Maria,  he  had  to  leave  her. 

"But  I  could  not  wait,  senorita,"  continued 
Refugio  from  her  mat,  where  she  sat  hugging  her 
knees  and  gazing  into  Miss  Summers'  sympathetic 
face.  ( '  I  prayed  to  the  Lord  every  day, — oh,  many 
times  a  day, — and  his  voice  seemed  to  be  always 
calling  me  to  go  over  the  mountain  to  find  you. 
Then  I  hid  the  scraps  of  food  my  tia  (aunt)  gave 
me  each  day  until  I  had  a  handkerchief  full  of 
them,  and  one  day  I  started  off  without  saying 
anything  to  anybody.  I  heard  a  girl  calling  to 
me  as  she  stood  at  the  fountain  filling  her  jarro 
(jar)  with  water:  'Where  art  thou  going,  crazy 
Cuca  ? '  But  I  pretended  not  to  hear  her  ;  and 
then  I  walked  and  walked  till  I  fell  down  with 
weariness,  and  all  night  I  coughed." 

"You  poor  girl  !"  said  Mary,  taking  the  thin 
hand  in  hers  and  softly  stroking  it.  ' '  How  long 
were  you  on  the  way  ?  " 

' '  Who  knows  ?  "  she  replied.  ' '  I  walked  when 
I  could,  sometimes  in  the  day,  sometimes  in  the 
night.  One  whole  day  and  night,  I  know,  I  lay 
under  a  great  pine  tree,  and  had  not  the  strength 
to  crack  \hzpinones1  that  covered  the  ground,  and 
that  would  have  been  such  fine  food.  I  followed 
the  road  always,  and  to-day,  when  I  came  in  sight 
of  the  houses,  I  think  I  fainted,  for  afterward  I 
found  myself  lying  in  a  large  briar  bush,  and  I  do 

1  A  small  nut  borne  by  the  pine  tree. 


THE  WAIF'S  STORY.  41 

not  know  how  I  came  there.  Then  I  prayed  to 
God  to  give  ine  the  strength  to  get  here,  for 
though  I  did  not  know,  I  was  almost  sure  that 
this  was  San  Bernabe.  And  so  I  found  you, 
senorita.  You  will  not  send  me  back  again  ? ' ' 
she  cried,  her  eyes  dilating  with  dread  as  this  new 
possibility  was  thrust  upon  her. 

"  No,  indeed,  Refugio," replied  her  friend,  "for 
I  believe,  like  you,  that  God  has  sent  you  to  ine. 
And  if  you  will  do  what  I  tell  you,  I  feel  that  you 
will  grow  strong  and  well  once  more.  Now,  if 
your  hair  is  dry,  lie  down  again  until  supper  time, 
and  I  shall  go  and  speak  to  Dona  Raquel  about 
keeping  you  here  with  me." 

Miss  Summers  found  Raquel  on  her  knees  be- 
fore the  meiatc,  a  slightly  hollowed  out  stone, 
upon  which  with  another  stone,  she  was  knead- 
ing the  masa1  for  the  supper  tortillas. 

Dona  Raquel  was  Eduardo's  wife,  and  was  a 
fine-looking  specimen  of  the  Mexican  country- 
woman. She  looked  up  with  pleasure  as  Mary 
addressed  her,  and  Petra,  hearing  her  voice,  ap- 
peared in  the  kitchen  doorway.  After  hearing 
the  teacher's  account  of  the  new  anival,  and  after 
some  discussion  between  mother  and  daughter, 
Dona  Raquel  agreed  that  Refugio  should  sleep  on 
a  mat  in  Petra's  room,  and  that  she  should  take 
her  meals  in  the  Vera  kitchen. 

"  When  she  is   stronger,   she   will   help  you, 

1  Dough  made  from  the  crushed  corn. 


42  A    MEXICAN   RANCH. 

Petra,  in  bringing  my  meals  and  in  caring  for  my 
rooms."  To  this  remark,  Petra's  only  reply  was 
a  grunt,  that  showed  lack  of  appreciation,  to  say 
the  least. 

"She  is  nothing  but  bones,"  declared  Petra, 
after  a  pause.  "  Her  skin  must  be  tough  to  hold 
them  together.  But  she  is  clean  now,"  she  added, 
grimly,  "though  I  think  you  will  have  to  let  me 
cut  off  her  hair,  senorita.  Her  head  is  full  of 
sores,  which  cannot  be  cured  with  that  heavy  suit 
of  hair." 

"  Of  course,  it  must  be  done,"  replied  Miss  Sum- 
mers, with  a  shiver.  "  We  must  attend  to  that  to- 
morrow. Now  she  must  rest  as  she  is  half-dead 
with  fatigue.  Give  her  as  much  milk  as  she  can 
drink  for  her  supper,  please,"  she  finished,  "with 
bread  and  an  egg,  but  nothing  fried  or  greasy,  and 
then  she  can  go  to  bed  in  your  room.  And  Petra," 
she  added,  as  she  drew  nearer  the  woman  who  stood 
in  the  kitchen  doorway,  "  I  think  you  need  not 
lock  the  door  between  my  rooms  again.  I  ani 
not  afraid  'that  our  little  guest  will  harm  anything, 
for  I  am  sure  the  Lord  has  sent  her  to  you  and 
me,  and  we  shall  begin  by  trusting  her."  With 
a  bright  smile  the  young  teacher  left  them  to 
their  work,  and  crossing  the  court  went  out  of  the 
gateway,  and  soon  left  the  ranch  behind  her,  as 
she  walked  toward  the  prairie  edge  for  her  custom- 
ary evening  stroll. 

"  Ah,  she  is  a  beauty ! "    exclaimed   Raquel, 


THE  WAIF'S  STORY.  43 

rapturously,  as  she  looked  admiringly  after  her. 
1 '  The  holy  virgin  must  have  looked  like  her.  And 
the  Mary  Mother  herself  could  not  have  a  kinder 
heart.  Do  you  know,  Petra,  although  she  is  a  Pro- 
testant, I  wake  in  the  night  sometimes  and  feel  that 
we  have  a  saint  under  our  roof.  And  the  thought 
of  her  sweet  face  drives  away  the  old  fears  of  trouble 
that  I  have  had  for  so  long.  The  virgin  will  not 
let  any  harm  come  to  thy  father  and  thy  brothers 
now  that  an  angel  stays  with  us  and  guards  us. 
What  thinkest  thou?" 

"  That  thou  art  half  a  Protestant  already,  mad- 
recita"  1  answered  Petra,  laughing  as  she  turned 
back  to  her  kitchen  fire.  "  Hast  thou  thought 
what  thy  confession  will  be  when  Padre  Esteban 
comes  here  again?  What  will  he  say  to  the 
pretty  Protestant  gringa  ? 2  That  is  what  I  am 
thinking  of,  while  we  go  on  worshiping  her,  bless 
her  heart ! " 

Raquel  only  shook  her  head,  and  went  on  with 
her  grinding.  Petra  hummed  an  evening  song  to 
the  virgin,  to  which  her  mother's  steady  strokes 
kept  time.  Little  Benjamin,  just  three  years  old, 
and  the  idol  of  his  aged  father,  tumbled  in  the 
sand  with  a  couple  of  puppies,  while  chickens, 
pigs,  and  ducks  roamed  peacefully  about  the  court. 
Refugio,  in  her  corner,  with  the  door  opened  upon 
the  peaceful  scene,  thought  she  was  in  heaven. 
Catching  up  Miss  Summers'  handkerchief,  which 

1  Little  mother.  a  Foreigner. 


44  A   MEXICAN  RANCH. 

had  fallen  near  her,  she  pressed  it  to  her  lips,  and 
then  closing  her  eyes  in  utter  content,  again  fell 
asleep.  She  waked  with  difficulty  for  her  supper, 
to  which  Petra,  half  led,  half  carried  her,  and  was 
hardly  installed  again  on  her  inat  in  Petra's  little 
room,  before  she  sank  into  the  most  profound  and 
health-giving  slumber,  and  she  did  not  wake  until 
the  Inorning. 


CHAPTER  III. 

LOOKING  BACKWARD. 

You  must  need 

Be  more  earnest  than  other  men  are, 
Speed  where  they  loiter,  persist  where  they  cease. 

THE  sun  was  sending  long  golden  rays  straight 
across  the  prairie  as  it  seemed  to  be  poised 
for  a  moment  just  at  the  horizon  line,  where  there 
came  a  break  in  the  hills.  Mary  shaded  her  eyes 
with  her  hand  as  she  faced  the  dazzling  ball,  and 
stumbled  on  unseeing,  tripping  now  and  again 
over  the  little  hillocks  scattered  far  and  wide  over 
the  plain.  The  hot  October  day  was  ending,  and 
the  young  woman  had  left  the  ranch  far  behind 
her  and  had  wandered  out  over  the  plain  stretch- 
ing westward,  in  search  of  a  whiff  of  fresh  air, 
free  from  the  dust  and  the  closeness  which  had 
clogged  her  ill-ventilated  little  schoolroom  all  day. 
The  sun  dropped  out  of  sight  and  instantly  a 
shady  coolness  spread  over  the  scene.  The  great 
mountains  in  the  east  rose  immediately  behind 
the  large  ranch  of  San  Bernabe,  and  the  range 
extended  at  varying  heights  north  and  south, 
completely  encircling  the  vast  plain,  except  in  the 
west.  Here  the  two  extremities  of  the  range  swept 

45 


46  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

aside  and  apart  from  each  other,  leaving  an  unin- 
terrupted view  of  the  western  sky  to  the  horizon 
line.  Mary  sank  down  on  the  absolutely  dry  sand 
of  the  prairie  and  took  off  her  hat  that  the  even- 
ing breeze  might  cool  her  heated  brow  and  flushed 
cheeks.  It  had  been  an  unusually  hard  day,  but 
the  soft  colors  of  the  sunset  sky,  the  refreshing 
wind,  and  the  cheery  barking  of  the  prairie  dogs 
almost  at  her  elbow,  easily  diverted  into  more 
cheerful  channels  the  current  of  her  thoughts. 

"As  the  mountains  are  round  about  Jerusalem," 
she  murmured,  clasping  her  hands  over  her  knees 
and  fixing  an  earnest  gaze  upon  the  blue-black 
summits  behind  the  ranch.  "  San  Beruabe"  is  not 
Jerusalem,"  she  continued,  smiling  a  little,  as  her 
gaze  shifted  to  the  flat,  dirt-covered  roofs  of  the 
little  one-storied  houses  forming  the  ranch  ;  "but 
the  Lord  is  round  about  his  people  everywhere, 
and  surely  there  are  some  who  are  his  even  here." 

She  was  speaking  aloud  now,  in  the  security 
that  the  utter  silence  and  loneliness  of  the  plain 
gave  her.  She  had  learned  to  talk  much  to  her- 
self during  these  months  of  her  isolated  life  at  the 
ra'nch.  As  she  sat  in  the  gloaming  which  was 
stealing  over  her,  while  the  colors  of  the  sky 
paled  to  a  soft,  silky  blue,  shot  in  the  west  with  a 
rosy  pink,  and  the  mountains  loomed  larger  and 
darker  opposite,  her  thoughts  sped  back  over 
months  of  time  and  leagues  of  distance,  and,  as  if 
by  the  powerful  gleam  of  a  search  light,  the  way 


LOOKING   BACKWARD.  47 

by  which  she  had  come  was  shown  in  all  its 
changing  lights  and  shadows. 

She  had  not  been  a  remarkably  good  child, 
although  she  could  never  remember  the  time  when 
she  did  not  long  "to  be  good."  Reared  in  a 
Christian  home,  where  piety  was  expressed  more 
in  the  doing  than  in  the  saying,  the  religious 
sentiment  had  taken  deep  hold  of  her  childish 
conscience  and  imagination  long  before  the  older 
ones  had  begun  to  realize  that  she  could  be  con- 
scious of  the  worth  of  a  soul. 

Her  dear  old  grandfather  allowed  her  to  play  at 
his  feet  with  her  dolls  under  his  great  writing 
desk,  never  guessing  that  after  tucking  "  Patty  " 
and  "  Willie  "  and  the  rest  away  for  oft-repeated 
and  convenient  slumbers,  the  small  mother  would 
cuddle  silently  beside  them,  going  over  in  her 
mind  questions  like  these:  "Who  am  I?  How 
am  I  different  from  my  doll  Patty  ?  Who  made 
me  different? " 

The  parable  of  the  prosperous  farmer  whose 
barns  would  not  hold  his  crops  always  impressed 
little  Mary  most  vividly.  "  This  night  thy  soul 
shall  be  required  of  thee,"  seemed  words  too  awful 
to  be  spoken  aloud.  What  was  this  thing,  the 
taking  of  which  was  to  cause  dire  confusion  and 
ruin  to  the  poor  man's  plans?  Had  she  one? 
Yes;  the  "Hymns  for  Infant  Minds"  all  taught 
that.  What  was  it?  Had  it  wings?  Was  she 
afraid  of  it  ? 


48  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

Her  father  had  died  when  Mary  was  but  a  baby, 
and  the  grandfather's  house  became  the  home  of 
the  widowed  mother  and  orphaned  children. 
Mother  and  brother  and  sister  soon  followed  the 
father,  but  Mary  lived  on  in  the  dear  old  home 
where  the  crab  apples  bloomed  and  the  asparagus 
sprouted  and  the  violets  scented  the  air,  year  after 
year,  until  only  the  grandmother  remained  of  all 
the  loved  home  circle,  and  the  yellow-haired 
maiden  grew  to  young  womanhood.  Always  the 
questions  crowded  thick  and  fast  in  the  busy  brain 
through  the  years  of  study ;  at  first  in  the  home, 
seated  on  the  little  cricket  at  grandmother's  feet ; 
then  in  college  halls,  where  she  spent  four  years 
of  earnest  effort ;  and  then,  when  all  was  com- 
pleted, and  she  came  home  to  her  own  pleasant 
chamber  up  among  the  boughs  of  the  apricot 
trees,  she  found  the  questions  still  unanswered. 

The  questions  were  different  now.  They  ran 
more  like  this:  "All  is  mine — youth,  health,  edu- 
cation, time,  and  a  soul.  What  shall  I  do  with 
them?  I  am  like  the  man  whose  barns  were  full. 
And  my  soul  will  be  required  of  me  too,  some  day  ; 
that  part  of  me  that  knows,  that  will  live ;  that 
part  which  I  can  make  great  and  beautiful,  or 
small  and  mean.  Oh,  I  must  study  and  I  must 
grow,  and  the  soul  that  God  has  given  me  will  go 
back  to  him  a  finished,  perfect  thing  when  it  has 
done  with  the  body." 

So  she  built  her  barns  and  worked  on,  but  some- 


LOOKING   BACKWARD.  49 

how  her  soul  did  not  seem  to  grow,  though  no  one 
knew  it  but  herself,  for  the  grave-eyed,  white- 
browed  young  woman  was  as  dear  and  necessary 
in  the  lonely  house  as  the  quiet,  sweet-faced  child 
had  been. 

After  a  while,  Mary  began  to  ask  herself: 
"What  is  it  all  for?  To  what  purpose  is  all  this 
striving?  Of  my  abundance  should  I  not  give 
to  those  who  lack? " 

And  one  night,  as  she  lay  in  her  bed  watching 
the  moonlight  shimmering  on  the  apricot  leaves 
outside  of  her  window,  she  remembered  the  night 
of  her  baptism,  many  years  before.  As  her  pastor 
had  raised  her  from  the  water,  he  had  whispered : 
4 'My  child,  from  henceforth  study  the  will  of 
your  Master  as  the  law  of  your  life.  What  will 
you  do  with  the  responsibilities  he  has  put  upon 
you  in  making  you  what  you  are? " 

There  had  been  no  time  for  an  answer  to  the 
question ;  perhaps  none  was  expected  just  then. 
Now,  as  she  lay  thinking,  amid  the  silence  of  the 
great  house,  she  knew  that  she  must  find  an 
answer  to  that  question  which  really  embodied 
her  heart's  most  earnest  longing. 

Before  putting  out  the  light,  she  had  been  read- 
ing several  chapters  of  the  prophecy  of  Isaiah 
concerning  the  coming  kingdom  of  the  Messiah, 
and  now,  in  a  flash,  certain  clauses  occurred  to  her 
mind  out  of  the  verses  just  read :  "  To  bind  up  the 
broken-hearted,  to  proclaim  liberty  to  the  captives, 

D 


50  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

and  the  opening  of  the  prison  to  them  that  are 
bound  ;  ...  to  comfort  all  that  mourn  ;  ...  to 
give  unto  them  beauty  for  ashes,  the  oil  of  joy  for 
mourning,  the  garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of 
heaviness. ' '  What  a  career  such  would  be  ! 

Mary  started  up  in  bed  and  in  an  instant  stood 
by  the  open  window  looking  out  into  the  glorious 
moonlight.  With  clasped  hands  and  eyes  brim- 
ming with  tears  she  cried  : 

"  Oh,  my  Master,  here  am  I !  Do  with  me 
according  to  thy  will.  I  am  thine  alone  and  all  I 
have  is  thine.  Send  me,  if  it  be  thy  will,  'to  pro- 
claim liberty  to  the  captives.'  "  And  she  knelt, 
sobbing,  upon  the  floor  by  the  window. 

The  morning  broke  and  all  the  pleasant  sounds 
of  the  summer  went  on  in  trees  and  garden,  while 
Mary  still  slept.  A  quiet  peace  had  succeeded  the 
excitement  of  the  early  hours  of  the  night,  and 
she  had  fallen  asleep  some  time  after  midnight, 
with  a  fixed,  cairn  resolution  to  become  a  foreign 
missionary. 

There  came  no  wavering  the  next  day,  nor  the 
next.  Uncle  Will  Summers  and  his  wife,  whose 
eyes  .were  sharper  than  grandmamma's,  wondered 
at  the  increased  gentleness  of  the  girl's  demeanor 
and  the  strange  light  in  the  dark  eyes,  which 
seemed  to  have  grown  darker  and  more  thought- 
ful than  ever  in  the  past  few  days.  These  two 
had  come  to  make  their  home  with  Mrs.  Summers 
when  Mary  left  for  school,  and  a  tiny  little  Mary 


LOOKING   BACKWARD.  5! 

had  come  to  gladden  the  old  house  with  the  sound 
of  baby  laughter,  and  by-and-by  with  the  pattering 
of  baby  feet.  Mary  felt  that  she  could  be  the  more 
easily  spared  as  this  bit  of  a  girl  was  fast  taking 
her  place  in  the  mind  of  the  aged  grandmother, 
who  lived  over  Mary's  babyhood  in  the  merry 
deeds  and  lisping  words  of  the  second  Mary. 

Two  years  before,  she  had  visited  Mexico  in  com- 
pany with  a  party  of  friends,  and  had  been  sadly  im- 
pressed by  the  degradation  of  the  women  and  their 
entire  ignorance  of  the  simplest  laws  of  health,  yet 
infinitely  more  impressed  by  the  utter  thralldom  in 
which  they  were  held  by  their  superstitions,  mis- 
called religion.  There  had  been  only  slight  oppor- 
tunities for  judging  of  this,  as  her  way  had  been 
through  the  larger  cities,  where  the  vice  and  pov- 
erty are  somewhat  hidden  from  the  tourists'  eyes, 
and  the  days  had  been  spent  in  visiting  cathedrals, 
museums,  or  ancient  ruins.  But  she  saw  enough 
of  dirt  and  bodily  disease  to  guess  at  the  depths 
of  moral  corruption  which  must  have  sway  over 
priest-ridden  souls,  and  many  a  lovely  bit  of 
scenery  from  the  car  window  was  spoiled  for 
her  by  some  hard,  evil  woman's  face  lifted  to 
hers  from  the  station  platform,  or  by  a  glimpse 
of  some  pitiful  deformity  in  a  little  child,  from 
whose  face  even,  innocence  seemed  to  have  flown. 
Mary's  friends  laughed  at  her  "sensibility"  and 
ridiculed  her  for  her  interest  in  the  miserable 
beggars  thronging  the  railroad  stations. 


£2  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"  It  is  sin,"  she  would  say  to  herself,  "  that  has 
done  it  all.  Generations  of  sin ;  and  the  babies 
must  bear  their  fathers'  and  mothers'  sins,  before 
they  are  old  enough  to  feel  their  inherited  ten- 
dency to  sin  ! "  Still,  she  had  corne  home  after 
this  and  had  gradually  ceased  to  think  of  it  at  all, 
until  that  summer  night  when  the  message  had 
come  to  her  "  to  give  unto  them  beauty  for  ashes  ; 
...  to  proclaim  the  opening  of  the  prison  to  them 
that  are  bound." 

The  Mexican  women  in  their  dirt,  and  sicknesses, 
and  sin  seemed  calling  to  her,  and  to  Mexico  she 
resolved  to  go. 

Friends  had  demurred  at  first,  and  grandmother 
had  wept  tears  of  sorrow  which  were  soon,  how- 
ever, wiped  away  in  order  to  see  and  laugh  over 
the  antics  of  Baby  Mary  ;  but  the  Board  had 
gladly,  if  wonderingly,  accepted  the  offer  of  Miss 
Mary  Summers,  of  Summers  Hall,  to  be  sent  as 
missionary  teacher  to  the  women  and  girls  of 
Mexico.  They  had  made  a  rigid  examination 
into  the  young  girl's  creed,  and  her  motives  for 
going  to  a  foreign  field,  and  among  most  satisfac- 
tory answers,  there  were  a  few  that  were  perhaps  a 
little  startling  to  the  members  of  the  Board,  com- 
posed of  staid  ministers  and  deacons.  One  old 
man,  a  senior  deacon  in  her  own  church,  had 
asked: 

"What  first  led  you,  Miss  Mary,  to  think  of 
being  a  missionary  at  all  ?  " 


LOOKING   BACKWARD.  53 

"The  thought  of  all  that  God  has  given  me, 
contrasted  with  the  want  and  suffering  of  the 
world. ' ' 

"  Humph,  my  dear  young  lady,  and  of  all  that 
God  has  given  you,  what  is  it  that  you  mean  to 
carry  to  your  field  of  labor  ?  Your  wealth  ?  You 
know  that  it  requires  most  judicious  management 
of  money  to  make  it  serve  the  best  purposes, 
especially  among  a  nation  of  beggars?  " 

"  I  shall  not  carry  my  wealth,  sir,  but  only  what 
that  has  given  to  me  and  made  of  me.  I  shall 
give  myself ;  I  have  had  opportunities  which  others 
have  not  had.  These  have  troubled  me  with  the 
weight  of  responsibility  which  they  have  brought, 
and  I  cannot  rest. ' ' 

"You  are  young,"  suggested  the  silver-haired 
deacon,  "and — and  beautiful,"  he  was  about  to 
say,  but  instead  added,  "and  there  is  much  to 
attract  you  in  your  life  at  home.  Can  you  give 
it  up?" 

"I  have  given  it  up,  already,"  she  replied  to 
her  old  friend  with  a  bright  look.  "  I  know  I 
shall  miss  many  things,  but  I  am  ready  to  bear 
what  my  Saviour  did,  for  his  sake. ' ' 

"Why  have  you  thought  of  Mexico,  Miss 
Mary?" 

"  Because  I  know  something  of  the  dreadful 
condition  of  the  women  and  girls  in  that  country," 
she  returned.  "  Of  course,  I  know  of  the  moral 
degradation  caused  by  the  Romish  Church  from 


54  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

reading  and  hearsay,  but  I  have  seen  with  my 
eyes  the  physical  suffering  and  want  among  the 
poorer  classes,  and  I  wisli  to  go  among  these." 

Then  Miss  Summers,  in  a  few  simple  words,  told 
her  plans  for  the  next  two  years  ;  she  would  enter  a 
charity  hospital,  and  take  a  two  years'  course  in 
nursing  before  going  to  Mexico,  studying  mean- 
while the  diseases  peculiar  to  that  country,  and 
to  little  children  in  general. 

After  some  thoughtful  discussion,  the  committee 
approved  this  plan,  and  Miss  Summers  was  ac- 
cepted as  missionary  of  the  Mission  Board,  to  enter 
upon  her  work  in  Mexico  at  the  end  of  two  years. 

The  two  years  passed,  and  she  had  come  to 

Mexico,  and  spent  one  year  in  S ,  which  was 

the  most  promising  of  the  Baptist  mission  sta- 
tions ;  where  crowds  attended  the  preaching  of  the 
gospel  ;  where  the  mission  school  was  well- 
appointed,  and  every  seat  filled  with  children, 
from  the  higher  classes  as  well  as  from  the  lower ; 
and  where  there  was  a  large  corps  of  mission 
workers.  For  one  year  she  had  lived  in  the  midst 
of  this  busy  hive,  studying  the  Spanish  language 
and  longing  for  some  work  to  do.  Every  duty 
was  so  accurately  apportioned  to  each  member  of 
the  household,  that  there  was  nothing  left  for  the 
new-comer  to  do,  and  though  her  heart  ached  to 
be  able  to  speak  to  the  natives,  and  tell  them  of 
the  love  that  had  constrained  her  to  come  among 
them,  yet  her  ignorance  of  the  language  forbade 


LOOKING   BACKWARD.  55 

it.  After  several  months  of  study,  however,  she 
could  use  Spanish  sufficiently  to  make  herself 
understood,  and  then  at  her  earnest  solicitation, 
she  was  taken  by  a  senior  missionary  on  a  mission- 
ary tour  of  several  ranch  churches.  San  Bernabe 
seemed  to  need  her  ;  the  little  dirty,  unkempt 
children  fell  in  love  with  her,  the  mothers  held 
her  pretty  soft  hand,  and  told  of  troubles  at  home  ; 
and  finally  she  begged  to  remain  there,  when  the 
missionary  left  to  continue  his  travels.  Reluct- 
antly he  had  consented,  convinced  how  great  her 
influence  would  be,  in  just  such  much-needed 
work  in  the  feeble  little  ranch  church,  yet  not 
convinced  of  the  wisdom  of  leaving  so  young  and 
untried  a  person  in  the  midst  of  such  unpromising 
circumstances. 

Miss  Summers'  quiet  determination  and  cheer- 
ful arguments  won  the  day,  and  he  had  driven  off 
one  morning  just  as  the  sun  appeared  over  the 
crest  of  the  mountain-top,  leaving  her  figure  stand- 
ing out  in  the  middle  of  the  white,  dusty  road, 
watching  the  creaking  diligence,  as  long  as  there 
was  anything  of  it  to  be  seen.  The  understand- 
ing was  that  she  was  to  return  to  the  city,  sixty 
miles  away  across  the  plains,  the  next  week  if  she 
should  become  too  lonely  to  bear  the  solitude. 
The  next  diligence,  however,  bore  no  home-sick 

girl  to  the  college  doors  in  S ;  instead,  a  letter 

arrived,  begging  that  her  trunks  and  books  be  sent 
by  the  returning  coach. 


56  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

Six  months  had  passed,  and  the  young  mission- 
ary sat  alone  on  the  prairie,  with  the  night  closing 
around  her,  thinking  of  the  last  days  in  her  home. 
She  almost  wondered  at  her  own  strength  of  pur- 
pose in  giving  up  everything  that  had  made  the 
beauty  of  her  life,  and  accepting  in  its  place,  utter 
uncongeniality,  real  privations  and  discomforts, 
loneliness  and  discouragements  never  imagined 
possible.  Yet  a  smile  hovered  about  her  lips,  as 
she  watched  the  great  bright  face  of  the  moon 
peering  at  her  over  the  mountain  peak  behind  the 
ranch,  and  she  arose,  giving  herself  a  little  shake, 
moral  as  well  as  physical. 

"After  all,"  she  murmured,  "one  can  only  do 
one's  best,  and — why  there  goes  the  horn  for  sup- 
per, and  I  must  hasten. ' ' 

And  hasten  she  did,  over  stones  and  prairie-dog 
hillocks,  with  the  quick,  springing  run  of  a  deer, 
toward  the  lights  beginning  to  twinkle  here  and 
there  in  the  little  hamlet. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  HOUSE  OF  VERA. 

Whosoever  shall  do  the  will  of  God,  the  same  is  my  brother  and 
my  sister  and  mother. — Mark  3  :  35. 

MARY  SUMMERS  had  been  six  months  at  the 
ranch  and  had,  little  by  little,  unraveled 
what  had  first  seemed  the  hopeless  tangle  of  Don 
Eduardo  Vera's  family  connections.  The  old  man 
was  now  eighty-one  years  old,  and  his  personal 
appearance  was  not  more  patriarchal  than  his 
position  as  head  of  the  ranch  community.  Mar- 
ried at  eighteen,  he  had  buried  several  wives,  and 
Raquel,  the  present  wife,  vwas  not  more  than  half 
his  age.  It  was  computed  that  he  was  the  father 
of  thirty-five  children,  the  eldest  of  whom,  Daniel, 
was  now  over  sixty  years  old,  a  grandfather  him- 
self, and  having  a  son  in  the  Mexican  army.  The 
youngest  son  of  Don  Eduardo  was  but  three  years 
old,  a  funny  little  miniature  of  his  old  father,  and 
the  pet  and  pride  of  father,  mother,  nieces,  and 
nephews. 

Many  of  the  children  had  moved  from  the 
ancestral  home  at  San  Bernabe,  establishing  com- 
munities of  their  own,  either  in  ranches  or  in  the 
neighboring  cities,  so  that  the  family  name  of 

57 


58  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

Vera  was  perhaps  the  most  widely  known  of  any 
in  North  Mexico.  They  were  generally  pros- 
perous, and  easily  assumed  the  lead  wherever  they 
were  thrown,  from  Don  Eduardo,  who  owned  San 
Bernabe*  and  half  a  dozen  other  neighboring 
ranches,  with  the  richest  pasture  land  and  the 
finest  flocks  of  any  one  in  the  country,  to  the 
dashing  young  captain,  son  of  Daniel.  All  of  the 
sons  and  daughters,  except  Petra,  Jose,  and  the 
young  Benjamin,  had  married,  some  below  their 
own  social  position,  others,  in  a  few  cases,  above  it. 

To  Miss  Summers  it  seemed  as  if  every  one  in  the 
ranch  was  cousin  to  his  neighbor,  and  that  most 
were  connected,  more  or  less,  with  their  head.  The 
very  lowest  and  poorest  of  the  inhabitants  were  the 
hired  laborers  and  servants  of  those  who  also 
served  and  labored,  for  there  were  few  idlers  at 
San  Bernabe  in  the  busy  season  before  the  rains, 
and  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  laboring  class, 
as  they  grew  to  maturity,  coveted  no  higher 
honor  than  to  serve  those  whom  their  grand- 
parents and  parents  had  served. 

Don  Eduardo  was  too  infirm  now  for  work,  but 
his  eye  was  still  keen,  except  on  Sundays  and  holi- 
days, when  he  usually  gave  himself  up  to  drowsi- 
ness and  sleep  ;  and  he  could  still  mount  a  pony 
and  ride  out  among  his  family  and  servants  en- 
gaged in  harvesting  or  shepherding.  There  was 
very  little  money  paid  as  wages  to  the  laborers, 
as  the  great  plantations  were  worked  on  a  most 


THE   HOUSE  OF  VERA.  59 

intricate  system  of  "  shares  "  of  the  crops,  and  of 
this  and  keeping  the  accounts  of  the  profits  and 
losses,  Jose*  had  entire  charge.  The  ranch  con- 
sisted of  a  hundred  or  more  small  huts,  with  here 
and  there  a  better  built  house,  indicating  the 
residence  of  a  Vera.  The  huts  were  built  of 
adobe,  and  had  often  only  a  rough  opening  in  one 
side  for  a  door,  closed  by  a  flapping  mat.  The 
roof  was  a  thatching  of  the  tough  leaf  of  the 
Spanish  dagger,  and  the  chimney  simply  a  hole 
in  the  roof. 

Men,  women,  children,  dogs,  and  poultry  often 
inhabited  one  room,  with  the  baby  swung  up  high 
in  a  shallow  box,  suspended  from  the  roof.  In 
warm  weather  and  during  the  ten  dry  months  of 
the  year,  these  houses  were  needed  only  for  sleep- 
ing purposes,  as  the  men  lived  in  the  fields  during 
the  day,  and  the  women  and  children  worked  and 
played  outside  in  the  bright  sunshine.  The  young 
teacher  often  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  what  life 
must  be  in  those  hovels  when  the  wintry  blasts 
swept  down  from  the  mountains,  and  snow  and 
hail  and  rain  came  hurtling  across  the  prairie. 

Don  Eduardo's  house  was  situated  in  the  center 
of  the  ranch,  and  consisted  of  a  dozen  rooms  built 
around  two  sides  of  a  wide  open  court,  whose  other 
sides  were  bounded  by  a  high  stone  wall.  The 
house  was  of  one  story  and  built  of  stone,  stuccoed 
with  a  white  plaster  and  roofed  with  boards,  upon 
which  cartloads  of  earth  were  packed.  Most  of 


60  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

the  doors  and  windows  opened  upon  the  court 
inside,  and  at  night  when  the  great  gates  of  the 
court  were  closed  and  barred,  Don  Eduardo  and 
his  immediate  retainers  were  shut  up  as  in  their 
own  castle,  and  might  easily  have  resisted  an  in- 
vading force  of  ten  times  their  number. 

The  old  man  was  unique  in  many  of  his  cus- 
toms, but  he  was  beloved  and  even  revered  by  his 
entire  family  connection.  The  fact  that  he  slept 
each  night  inside  a  great  sack  of  coarse  cloth,  with 
the  opening  closely  drawn  up  over  his  head  by  a 
string,  as  a  protection  against  fleas,  did  not  seem 
a  matter  for  ridicule  with  the  members  of  his 
household,  as  they  nightly  assisted  the  old  gen- 
tleman's stiffening  limbs  into  the  bag.  His  wish 
was  law  throughout  the  whole  ranch,  and  even 
now  he  was  equal  to  the  task  of  whipping  the 
unwary  lad  caught  in  mischief  and  whose  punish- 
ment was  beyond  the  province  of  the  schoolmas- 
ter ;  and  woe  to  the  boy  whose  parents  handed  him 
over  to  the  lash  in  the  patriarch's  hand,  for  a 
brand  of  disgrace  was  left  on  his  character  which 
nothing  short  of  leaving  the  ranch  could  remove. 

The  first  serious  division  in  the  unanimity  of 
the  moral  and  religious  life  of  this  community  of 
two  or  three  hundred  persons,  was  brought  about 
when  Mr.  Richards,  a  Baptist  missionary,  had 
made  his  first  journey  through  that  region,  five 
years  before.  All  rose  in  indignation  against  the 
intrusion  of  the  hated  Protestant  doctrine  which 


THE   HOUSE  OF  VERA.  6 1 

his  visit  entailed,  that  is,  all  save  Don  Eduardo. 
He  allowed  no  discussions  in  his  own  house,  which 
might  have  led  to  unpleasant  consequences,  and 
which  would  have  reflected  upon  his  own  charac- 
ter as  host ;  but  he  gave  the  stranger  an  oppor- 
tunity to  speak  in  a  vacant  room  outside  of  his 
gates,  and  himself  attended  the  short  services. 
One  or  two  of  the  laboring  men  lounged  about 
the  door  and  several  children  were  induced  to 
enter  at  the  sight  of  the  bright  picture  cards 
which  Mr.  Richards  had  ready  for  them.  Noth- 
ing seemed  to  be  accomplished  by  this  visit,  and 
little  by  a  second  and  third,  while  in  reality  the 
great  good  nature,  the  natural  tact,  and  genuine 
earnestness  of  the  man  were  making  him  many 
friends.  When,  on  a  fourth  visit,  he  gave  an 
opportunity  to  those  who  understood  what  he  had 
been  trying  to  teach  them  for  many  weeks  and  who 
having  believed  on  the  Lord  whom  he  preached 
wished  to  unite  in  forming  a  Baptist  church, 
to  then  and  there  declare  themselves,  Don  Edu- 
ardo had  offered  himself  as  candidate,  and  had 
been  followed  by  one  of  his  sons,  three  serving 
men  and  the  wives  of  two  of  the  latter.  These 
were  baptized  and  formed  into  a  church,  and 
thereafter  an  interest  was  kept  up  among  the 
people  by  the  occasional  visits  of  Mr.  Richards, 
while  a  native  preacher,  Sefior  Jimenez,  was  ap- 
pointed to  preach  at  the  ranch  every  Sunday. 
Sometimes  his  labors  were  supplemented  by  some 


62  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

student  from  S ,  where  a  Baptist  school    for 

young  men  had  been  established. 

When  Miss  Summers  came  to  the  ranch  the 
church  numbered  thirty  men  and  fourteen  women, 
but  there  was  no  Sunday-school  at  all.  The  sen- 
timent of  the  ranch,  however,  was  changed  and 
though  much  fanaticism  still  survived,  a  kind  of 
admiring  indulgence  was  granted  the  young  lady, 
who  had  left  her  home  to  come  and  live  among 
her  "sisters,"  as  she  called  them,  to  teach  them 
and  help  them  in  every  possible  way.  It  is  true 
that  the  yearly  visit  of  the  priest  had  not  been 
made  since  her  arrival,  and  many  a  woman  and 
girl  knew  already  what  the  most  important  point 
in  their  annual  confession  must  be.  Still,  so 
many  had  spoken  with  the  Protestant  lady,  some 
having  received  her  into  their  homes,  that  the  dan- 
ger of  the  confession  seemed  lessened  for  each,  as 
all  would  fall  under  the  same  condemnation  !  And 
many  weeks  were  wanting  before  Padre  Esteban 
would  reach  San  Bernabe,  and  meanwhile,  the 
little  chapel  which  was  to  be  ready  for  him  this 
year  when  he  came,  was  still  unfinished,  and  if 
the  rains  should  come  before  the  roof  was  on,  the 
adobe  walls  would  be  worse  than  useless.  Neither 
Raquel  nor  Petra  had  followed  Don  Eduardo's 
example,  but  Miss  Summers  was  sure  that  Petra 
was  a  Christian,  and  hoped  that  she  would  ask  for 
baptism  when  Mr.  Richards  should  next  come  to 
the  ranch.  Raquel  was  thoughtful  and  silent,  and 


HOUSE  OF  VERA.  63 

Mary  had  noticed  that  for  the  past  two  months 
she  had  not  trudged  over  to  Bienvenida  to  Sunday 
mass  as  had  always  been  her  custom  before.  Jose" 
was  a  mystery.  When  in  Mary's  presence,  he 
seemed  like  a  shy  schoolboy,  not  daring  to  lift  his 
great  wistful  eyes  to  her  face  ;  at  other  times  he 
was  all  energy  and  manliness,  and  every  one 
predicted  that  he  would  be  his  father's  successor 
in  the  personal  management  of  the  estate,  as  he 
was  already  his  associate.  Unlike  his  father,  he 
was  broad-shouldered  and  tall,  his  head  was  well- 
shaped,  his  hair  black  and  waving,  and  his  mouth 
and  chin  were  particularly  fine.  Instead  of  the 
traditional  black  eyes,  his  were  blue,  and  his  skin 
was  several  shades  lighter  than  that  of  his  half- 
brothers  and  sisters,  showing  traces  of  the  Span- 
ish blood  inherited  from  his  mother's  family. 
He  was  a  silent  and  reserved  young  fellow,  and 
though  seldom  wanting  in  the  merry  reunions  of 
the  family,  he  and  his  dog  usually  sat  gravely  at 
one  side,  taking  little  share  in  the  general  chatter. 
Discovering  his  passion  for  music,  Miss  Summers 
had  offered  to  teach  him  the  use  of  the  little  church 
organ,  and  he  had  already  conceived  a  private  plan 
for  setting  up  a  great  pipe  organ  in  his  own  room,  or 
perhaps  in  the  new  Catholic  chapel  when  it  should 
be  completed,  and  he  would  be  the  organist,  and 
all  the  ranches,  far  and  near,  would  flock  to  hear 
him  and  would  be  proud  of  him.  To  the  music 
lessons  was  added  English,  and  three  evenings  in 


64  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

the  week  Mary  spent  in  the  prim,  chilly  sala  of  the 
house,  seated  opposite  Jose"  at  the  center  table, 
giving  the  lesson  in  English,  while  Raquel  and 
Petra  nodded  over  their  knitting,  and  Eduardo 
played  outside  the  door  with  his  youngest  son. 

At  first,  the  young  teacher  found  her  cares  in- 
creased with  the  addition  of  Refugio  to  the  house- 
hold. Forseveral  weeks  the  girl  was  barely  able  to 
drag  her  feeble  body  from  the  kitchen  to  a 
sunny  spot  inside  Mary's  door,  where  she  lay  or 
crouched  all  day  during  school  hours.  Gradually, 
sufficient  strength  came  to  enable  her  to  follow 
the  scholars  to  the  schoolroom,  and  she  would 
rest  all  day  on  an  old  quilt  near  the  teacher's 
feet.  With  surprising  quickness  she  learned 
hymns  and  Scripture  by  heart,  and  at  the  end  of 
six  weeks  she  was  able  to  take  her  place  on  one 
of  the  benches  and  enter  the  most  advanced  class. 
She  was  now  a  different  creature,  indeed,  from 
the  dying  girl  who  had  fainted  at  Mary's  door  a 
few  weeks  before ;  the  cough  had  vanished,  and 
she  was  fast  growing  plump  and  very  pretty.  Her 
short  hair  curled  under  her  rebozo,  her  eyes  had 
brightened,  and  she  had  the  trim,  neat  little  figure 
of  a  well-fed  girl  of  sixteen.  Her  affection  for  her 
protectress  was  a  kind  of  unconscious  adoration, 
and  Mary  felt  sure  that  in  Jose"  and  in  Refugio  she 
had  two  faithful  friends  who  would  at  any  time 
lay  down  their  lives  for  her,  if  necessary. 


THE   HOUSE  OF  VERA.  65 

On  one  of  the  last  days  of  November,  some 
weeks  after  Refugio's  arrival,  Mary  had  brought 
her  chair  out  into  the  court  to  enjoy  the  afternoon 
sunshine  after  a  rather  chilly  morning  in  the 
schoolroom.  It  was  Saturday,  and  a  half  holiday, 
and  having  sent  Refugio  on  an  errand  to  the  far- 
away end  of  the  ranch,  she  was  all  alone.  Petra 
hummed  a  song  in  the  kitchen,  across  the  court, 
and  the  tumbling  baby  had  gone  with  his  mother 
to  visit  a  relative  beyond  the  gates.  The  mail 
that  day  had  brought  letters  and  newspapers  to 
the  young  missionary,  and  she  was  eagerly  de- 
vouring home  news,  delightfully  interesting  if 
somewhat  stale,  when  she  heard  steps  behind  her, 
and  looking  up,  she  encountered  Jose's  blue  eyes, 
fixed  somewhat  ruefully  on  the  pile  of  letters. 

"You  are  busy?"  he  questioned,  hesitatingly. 
"I  did  not  notice.  Refugio,  whom  I  met  a  mo- 
ment ago,  told  me  that  you  were  unoccupied,  and 
I  thought  you  might  help  me  with  this  scale," 
drawing  a  roll  of  ruled  music  paper  from  his 
pocket  as  he  spoke. 

Not  indulging  in  the  sigh  that  rose  to  her  lips,  his 
friend  took  the  sheet  and  easily  found  the  errors 
which  had  puzzled  the  young  man.  He  had  taken 
his  seat  upon  a  large  flat  stone  near  her,  and  when 
she  had  explained  the  method  of  following  out  the 
scale,  she  expected  him  to  leave.  Instead,  finger- 
ing the  roll  of  music  uneasily,  he  asked  her  very 
abruptly,  and  with  flushed  cheeks : 


66  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"  Senorita  Maria,  why  did  you  come  here  ?  I 
often  hear  the  question  asked.  Some  of  the  men 
were  talking  of  it  last  night,  and  when  they  ask 
me,  if  they  ever  dare  to  do  so,  I  should  like  to 
know  what  to  tell  them  ;  that  is,  what  you  would 
like  to  have  me  tell  them." 

"  I  am  glad,  Jose,  that  you  have  asked  me  this," 
Miss  Summers  replied.  "And  I  think  that  I  can 
make  you  understand  it.  Life  is  a  very  serious 
thing,  Jose",  for  those  who  think  about  it;  and  how 
little  we  all  seem  to  appreciate  it!  Some  say 
that  there  is  no  rule  or  law  for  our  lives,  that  we 
do  not  know  whence  we  came  nor  whither  we  are 
going,  and  that  the  only  thing  for  us  is  just  to  do 
the  best  we  can  for  ourselves  without  troubling 
about  anything  above  and  beyond  us." 

"And  is  that  not  true,  senorita?"  asked,  Jose", 
gently.  "Do  we  know  anything  better  than 
that?" 

"I  do,  Jose","  looking  at  him  with  her  bright 
look,  that  somehow  gave  him  a  queer  catch  in  his 
throat  this  afternoon.  "  Let  me  tell  you  a  rule  I 
learned  years  ago  which  helps  me ;  and  really,  I 
do  not  know  how  we  can  know  what  is  the  best 
we  can  do  without  following  the  spirit  of  this  rule. 
Listen:  "Life  is  to  do  the  will  of  GodS"  She 
stopped  a  moment,  and  looked  away  from  the 
earnest  face  of  the  young  man  and  out  toward  the 
mountain  peaks  which  shadowed  the  ranch. 

"What  does  that  mean,  senorita?"    inquired 


THE  HOUSE  OF  VERA.  67 

Jose",   after  waiting  a  moment    for  her  to  con- 
tinue. 

"  We  must  first  know  what  the  will  of  God  is, 
Jose",  before  we  can  be  ready  to  do  it.  Now,  there 
are  several  helps  that  he  has  given  us  for  learning 
what  is  his  will.  The  Bible,  which  you  do  not 
read,  is  a  most  important  guide  to  this  knowledge. 
If  you  would  study  it  you  would  find  amazing 
truths  there,  besides  a  fuller  knowledge  of  his 
will.  Then,  there  is  besides,  the  law  written  in 
our  hearts,  which  we  cannot  tell  how,  is  always 
trying  to  lead  us  onward  and  upward — '  a  spark 
of  the  eternal  God,'  "  she  murmured.  "I  beg 
your  pardon,  Jose,"  she  resumed  ;  "  this  is  really 
what  I  mean,  that  the  duty  of  us  all  is  to  search 
for  opportunities  of  improving  ourselves  and  of 
improving  our  neighbors  as  ourselves,  physically, 
mentally,  and  spiritually.  It  is  a  duty,  not  a 
whim  which  we  may  follow  or  not  as  we  please. 
God  has  laid  this  duty  upon  us,  and  if  we  are  in 
any  perplexity  as  to  the  best  way  to  perform  it, 
we  have  only  to  ask  him  to  make  the  way  plain 
and  he  will  do  so.  Now,  I  could  not  rest  at  home 
with  every  joy  and  comfort  around  me,  feeling 
that  there  were  powers  in  myself  of  teaching  and 
helping  others  unexercised,  and  knowing  that 
there  were  those  needing  the  help  that  I  could 
give.  Then  I  thought,  '  L,ife  is  to  do  the  will  of 
God,'  and  I  knew  that  I  wanted  to  live,  and  that 
this  desire  in  me  to  teach  others  to  live  must  come 


68  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

from  him  to  show  me  what  I  should  do.  Then  I 
began  to  think  of  Mexico  and  of  the  girls  here, 
who  could  know  nothing  of  '  life '  unless  some 
one  should  tell  them,  and  I  could  not  forget  the 
Mexican  girls,  and  so  I  am  here.  And  now  do  you 
think  from  what  I  have  told  you  that  you  can 
find  an  answer  for  those  who  ask  you  why  I  have 
come  ? ' ' 

"  Senorita,"  he  replied,  "  I  understand  as  I  have 
never  done  before.  Ah  !  "  he  continued,  as  if  to 
himself,  and  there  was  no  shyness  left  now,  u  it  is 
like  the  Christ.  They  say  that  he  left  his  Father's 
throne  and  came  to  teach  men  how  to  live,  though 
I  had  never  thought  of  it  in  that  way  before. 
And  will  you  ever  return,  seiiorita,  to  that  beau- 
tiful home  and  to  those  who  must  love  you  more 

than "  he  did  not  finish,  but  waited  for  her 

reply. 

"  When  my  work  is  done  I  shall  leave  it,  Jose. 
But  who  can  say  how  or  when  that  will  be  ?  My 
hope  is  to  spend  my  life  in  Mexico,  perhaps  not 
always  in  San  Beniabe",  where  others  will  be  able 
to  carry  on  what  we  have  begun  here ;  but  who 
knows?  I  can  only  do  what  seems  my  duty  to- 
day." 

Refugio  returned  now  from  her  errand,  and  Jose* 
rose  to  his  feet  with  a  new  light  in  his  eyes  as  he 
held  out  his  hand  to  Mary. 

"Thank  you,  senorita,"  he  said;  "I  shall  not 
forget  what  you  have  told  me." 


CHAPTER  V. 

SUNDAY  AT  THE   RANCH. 

By  desiring  what  is  perfectly  good,  even  when  we  don't  know  what 
it  is,  and  cannot  do  what  we  would,  we  are  part  of  the  divine  power 
against  evil,  widening  the  skirts  of  light,  and  making  the  struggle 
with  darkness  narrower. —  George  Eliot. 

THE  next  day  was  Sunday,  which  at  the  ranch 
was  kept  in  usual  Mexican  fashion.  There 
was  no  Roman  Catholic  church  nearer  than  La 
Bienvenida,  a  league  and  a  half  away,  but  most 
of  the  women  and  a  few  of  the  men  always 
attended  nine  o'clock  mass  in  the  little  gaudy 
chapel  in  that  village.  The  day  was  observed  as 
a  holiday  by  those  who  did  not  wish  to  work,  and 
the  crashing  flails  were  silent  in  the  open  space 
before  the  great  barn.  The  mothers  went  about 
their  usual  tasks  in  the  morning  and  spent  the 
afternoon  as  they  wished.  Most  of  the  men  and 
boys  wore  clean,  white  cotton  shirts  and  trousers. 
The  women  and  girls  wore  their  holiday  attire  of 
pink  calico  skirt,  very  full  and  stiffly  starched, 
and  perhaps  a  pink  calico  sacque  with  the  inevita- 
ble rebozo.1  The  ranch  was  noisier  on  Sundays 
than  on  other  days,  for  there  was  much  clatter 

J  Long  scarf-like  shawl  worn  oyer  head  and  shoulders. 


7O  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

along  the  road  upon  which  the  house  doors 
opened,  and  here  and  there  a  gay  song  was  sung, 
accompanied  by  a  guitar.  Boys  and  girls,  released 
from  the  schoolroom,  rolled  in  the  dust  of  the 
road,  adding  their  clamor  to  the  other  sounds  of 
merriment. 

On  this  morning  Don  Eduardo  sat  outside  of 
his  gateway,  surrounded  by  his  gray-haired  sons 
and  stalwart  grandsons,  and  a  few  of  the  wives 
and  children  belonging  to  the  Vera  clan.  The 
old  man  looked  more  patriarchal  than  ever,  with 
such  a  gathering  of  generations  about  him,  for 
many  representatives  of  the  family  had  come  from 
small  ranches  in  the  neighborhood  to  spend  this 
day  with  the  oldest  representative  of  the  clan. 
Miss  Summers  had  learned  during  the  past  week 
of  the  expected  arrival  of  Daniel,  the  grandson  of 
Eduardo,  and  son  of  Daniel,  who  was  now  an 
officer  in  the  Mexican  army,  stationed  in  the  capi- 
tal city.  It  was  probable  that  this  notable  capitan 
would  arrive  on  this  day,  as  news  had  been  brought 

of  his  having  been  in  S only  two  days 

before.  As  she  remembered  this,  she  better 
understood  the  general  air  of  unusual  festivity 
'pervading  the  family  party,  as  she  left  her  room 
and  approached  the  gate  on  her  way  to  the  mission 
house. 

The  first  bell  had  already  rung  for  morning  ser- 
vice when  she  crossed  the  court  and  looked  for 
Refugio,  who  was  usually  stationed  just  within 


SUNDAY  AT  THE   RANCH.  71 

the  arch  awaiting  her  mistress.  She  was  there 
now,  and  the  pair  went  quickly  forth,  not  pausing 
as  a  reiterated  "Buenos  dias,  senorita"  sounded 
from  every  mouth.  With  a  smiling  return  of  the 
morning  greeting  they  soon  passed  out  of  sight 
around  the  corner  of  the  court.  How  she  longed 
to  take  them  all  with  her  to  the  service,  to  leave 
not  one  to  smoke  his  pipe  or  tell  his  tale  in  the 
shadow  of  the  mulberry  tree  !  Sunday  after  Sun- 
day she  had  urged  the  attendance  of  one  or  all  of 
the  family,  but  Petra  was  the  only  one  who  had  re- 
sponded with  anything  like  cordiality  to  her  invi- 
tation. Don  Eduardo  often  attended  the  service, 
but  to-day  his  head  was  sick  and  heavy,  and  he 
hardly  noticed  the  teacher's  departure.  Jose"  never 
failed  to  present  himself  at  the  first  chord  struck 
on  the  chapel  organ,  and  just  as  regularly 
marched  away  as  Senor  Jimenez  opened  the  Bible 
to  read. 

This  morning,  however, — and  when  she  saw  it 
Mary  chided  herself  for  her  own  lack  of  faith 
which  had  not  allowed  her  to  urge  her  usual  plea 
to-day, — as  the  organ  gave  the  keynote  of  the 
second  hymn,  most  of  the  group  which  she  had 
left  gossiping  about  the  gate  entered  the  mission 
house  door  with  a  good  deal  of  flurry,  and  some 
conscious  giggling  from  the  younger  members  of 
the  party. 

Some  of  them  out  of  curiosity,  and  the  others 
out  of  real  admiration  for  the  beautiful  young 


72  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

gringa,  had  decided  to  leave  the  old  man  and  a 
dozen  or  more  dogs  to  watch  the  road  leading  from 
the  city,  and  they  had,  most  of  them,  for  the  first 
time  entered  the  "  condemned  foreigners'  "  chapel. 

"  Why  not?  "  Angela  had  asked,  a  pretty  young 
woman,  who  according  to  the  gossips  was  in  love 
with  Jose*  Vera,  and  was  his  double  first  cousin. 
"  I  like  music,  and  I  love  the  pretty  Mariquita. 
If  I  do  not  like  the  sermon,  I  can  come  away,  as 
they  say  Jose"  here  always  does ! "  with  a  saucy 
toss  of  her  head  at  the  young  man,  who  stood 
leaning  against  the  tree  behind  her,  already  listen- 
ing for  the  sound  of  the  music. 

"  Let  us  all  go,"  suggested  Daniel,/a<^r^.  "  If 
Daniel  comes,  the  dogs  will  let  us  know  in  time 
for  us  all  to  be  here  to  receive  him.  But  mind," 
he  added  to  the  laughing  Angela,  "and  behave 
yourself,  out  of  respect  to  the  senorita." 

"  Adios,  padrecito"^  cried  Angela,  in  Don 
Eduardo's  ear.  "  We  are  going  to  the  senorita's 
mass,  and  to  confess  to  the  padre protestante  after- 
ward. Ay  de  mi,  and  what  a  penance  in  truth  I 
shall  have  to  make  when  our  own  padre  hears  !" 

The  old  man  looked  wonderingly  and  wistfully 
after  them,  as  all  but  Daniel's  wife  rose  from  their 
seats  and  sauntered  along  in  the  direction  of  the 
chapel.  Dona  Rosa  sat  upright  upon  a  stool  near 
her  father-in-law's  side.  Raquel  and  Petra  were 
busy  in  the  kitchen. 

1  Farewell,  little  father. 


SUNDAY  AT  THE  RANCH.  73 

"  Whither  have  they  gone,  little  daughter?  "  he 
asked,  as  the  last  one  disappeared  around  the 
corner.  "Is  he  come  already ?  Dost  thou  hear 
the  diligence  ?  ' ' 

"No,  padre  mio"  replied  Rosa.  "They  are 
all  fools  and  faithless.  The  little  one,  Angelita, 
has  persuaded  them  to  go  to  the  senorita's  culto^  * 
and  only  I  have  stayed  to  bear  thee  company." 

"It  is  well,"  returned  the  old  man.  "I  am 
glad.  To-day, — what  day  is  this? — Sunday? 
Come,  we  will  go  also,  why  do  we  stay  away  ?  " 

"No,  no,  father,"  exclaimed  the  woman,  "we 
shall  stay  here  and  watch  for  the  diligence. 
What  a  shame  it  would  be  for  Daniel  to  arrive, 
our  brave  soldier,  my  son  Daniel,  and  find  no  one 
to  receive  him  but  the  dogs  and  the  children  out 
in  the  road.  See,  the  shadows  are  even  now 
pointing  toward  the  north,  and  it  is  almost  noon. 
Surely,  it  will  not  be  long  now,"  she  added,  with 
a  mother's  yearning  in  her  voice. 

Don  Eduardo  yielded,  and  after  a  little  he 
threw  his  large  red  handkerchief  over  his  head 
and  face,  and  dozed,  as  the  aged  do,  even  on  the 
eve  of  the  most  thrilling  events.  Dona  Rosa  kept 
her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  long  prairie  road  stretch- 
ing away  toward  the  mountains.  Her  holiday 
costume  was  a  black  silk  skirt  and  tightly  fitting 
white  sacque,  while  over  her  ample  shoulders  was 
thrown  the  black  shawl  of  the  well-to-do  middle 

1  Worship  or  church  service. 


74  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

class.  Her  black  hair  was  smooth  and  shining-, 
and  hung  in  two  long  braids  below  her  waist. 
Her  black  eyes  were  eager  and  burning,  and  in 
watching  for  the  first  sign  of  the  approach  of  her 
son,  they  had  lost  the  scornful  expression  which 
had  accompanied  the  first  words  of  her  speech  to 
her  father-in-law. 

Meanwhile,  the  feminine  portion  of  the  visiting 
party  in  the  little  church  had  found  seats  on  the 
benches  dedicated  to  the  use  of  women  and  girls, 
while  Daniel  and  one  or  two  other  men  sat  oppo- 
site, among  the  other  male  attendants. 

The  devout  attitude  of  the  little  congregation, 
which  gave  not  one  surprised  glance,  nor  uttered 
a  whisper  as  the  strangers  entered,  told  upon  even 
Angela's  high  spirits,  and  she  accepted  a  hymn 
book  handed  to  her  by  Carlos,  whose  serious 
manner  did  full  justice  to  his  important  office  of 
book-bearer.  Juan  Vera  was  standing  close  at 
Mary's  elbow,  and  the  rest  of  the  nineteen  children 
from  the  day  school  were  present.  The  song  se- 
lected was  a  great  favorite. 

As  usual,  when  Mary  began  to  sing,  everything 
within  and  without  grew  quiet,  and  the  strangers 
in  the  church  fixed  their  eyes  and  ears  upon  the 
bright-faced  organist.  Jose*  sat  in  his  usual  place 
upon  the  door-step,  the  great  white  head  of  his 
dog  upon  his  knee,  but  he  looked  away  toward 
the  mountains  bounding  the  plain. 

Mary's  dress  was  white,  and  her  large  white  hat 


SUNDAY  AT  THE   RANCH.  75 

was  pushed  back  from  her  forehead,  where  bits 
of  sunny  curls  twisted  and  waved  and  framed  the 
fair  temples  in  a  most  bewitching  manner.  Her 
dark  eyes  grew  very  soft  and  reverent,  as  they 
always  did  when  she  listened  to  her  little  ones 
singing  the  tender  words  of  the  hymns,  and  to- 
day as  Juanito's  childish  voice  rang  out  above  the 
others  the  tears  started,  and  she  could  have  taken 
him  into  her  arms  and  hugged  him. 

They  sang  the  last  verse  with  the  earnest 
emphasis  which  Mary  had  taught  them  to  use 
with  these  words,  and  Jose*  started  at  finding  him- 
self hearing  something  in  what  was  sung  besides 
the  music  of  Mary's  voice : 

He  long s  to  receive  thee, 
He  wishes  to  favor  thee ; 
To  open  to  thee  the  doors 
Of  eternal  happiness. 

"  Come  to  Christ ;  come  now,"  he  repeated  in- 
wardly, forgetting  to  slip  away  as  Senor  Jimenez 
offered  a  short  and  simple  prayer. 

"  How  can  I  go  to  him  ?  Where  is  he  ?  The 
Virgin  Mary  I  know,  and  she,  they  say,  wrings 
pardon  for  us  from  her  Son.  How  should  I,  a 
sinner,  find  him,  the  Son  of  God,  who  is  perfect, 
and  likes  not  sin  nor  sinners  ?  " 

The  preacher  arose  from  his  knees,  and  speak- 
ing quickly  and  tenderly,  told  the  ever- wonderful 
story  of  the  cross  to  the  little  band  of  hearers. 

4 'Just  as  I  am,   without  one  plea,"   was   the 


76  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

hymn  selected,  and  the  sweet,  old  familiar  tune, 
Wood-worth,  which  belongs  to  the  touching  words 
as  none  other  does,  thrilled  through  the  little  room 
and  out  upon  the  warm,  still  air  of  that  perfect 
November  Sunday.  Jose  listened,  and  a  lump 
rose  in  his  throat  which  he  had  never  felt  there 
before. 

The  discourse  was  short  and  impressive,  Miss 
Summers  thought,  as  she  listened  to  the  little  man 
who  usually  seemed  dull  even  to  her.  Perhaps 
he  was  encouraged  and  inspired  by  the  increase 
of  hearers  to-day  ;  at  any  rate  they  all  listened  to 
the  end,  much  to  her  surprise,  and  after  another 
hymn,  followed  by  the  benediction,  the  strangers 
dispersed  as  quietly  as  any  regular  church-goers 
could  have  done.  Angela  lingered  to  speak  to 
Mary,  who  was  closing  the  organ  and  giving  part- 
ing reminders  to  the  children  of  the  Sunday-school 
in  the  afternoon. 

"Well,  Angela,"  said  Mary,  as  she  found  the 
young  girl  at  her  elbow,  ' '  I  am  glad  you  came 
and  I  hope  you  will  come  often.  Why  not  ?  I  am 
sure  that  Jose*  would  go  for  you  on  Saturdays 
sometimes,  and " 

"  And  my  mother  would  shut  me  up  in  a  con- 
vent, rather  !  "  returned  the  girl,  laughing.  "  Oh, 
do  let  me  touch  the  little  organ,  just  with  one  of 
my  fingers  !  How  is  it  that  you  can  make  such 
music?  Did  you  have  to  learn,  or  was  it  born 
with  you  in  the  tips  of  your  little  white  fingers. 


SUNDAY  AT  THE  RANCH.  77 

Oh,"  she  continued,  not  giving  Mary  time  to  an- 
swer her,  "  I  know  that  you  are  teaching  Jose", 
but  his  great,  black  hands,  what  can  they  do? 
I  do  not  believe  a  word  of  his  playing.  Now,  I," 
she  murmured,  looking  only  half  approvingly  at 
her  own  shapely  little  hand,  so  brown  beside 
Mary's  much  larger  one,  "perhaps  I  could  learn." 

"Of  course  you  can,"  replied  Mary,  eagerly. 
"  And  if  you  like  I  will  teach  you.  How  would 
you  like  that,  Angela  ?  " 

"  How  beautiful  that  would  be  !  "  exclaimed 
the  girl  enthusiastically.  "  And  then  I  should  be 
equal  with  Jose,"  she  added,  her  black  eyes  snap- 
ping, for  she  was  not  at  all  sure  of  the  young 
fellow's  attachment  to  herself,  as  he  had  grown 
strangely  cold  and  thoughtful  of  late,  in  fact  quite 
another  Jose,  she  thought.  "  Bah  !  he  will  never 
learn,"  she  declared. 

"  Oh  yes,  he  will, ' '  returned  Mary  ;  "  he  is  already 
learning.  But  he  is  shy,  and  always  shuts  him- 
self up  alone  to  play  except  when  I  give  him  his 
lesson." 

"  And  then  you  two  are  together,  is  it  not  so  ?  " 
asked  Angela,  slowly,  fingering  the  organ  keys 
with  one  hand,  and  looking  away  from  Mary. 

"Why,  of  course,"  replied  Mary,  "and  you 
should  see  your  Jose  then,  Angela,  for  he  forgets 
everything  but  the  music  when  he  plays  or  when 
I  am  playing,  and  he  grows  quite  gentle  and 
solemn,  and " 


78  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

( '  I  think  no  one  can  forget  you,  Sanorita  Maria, 
when  you  are  playing,  no  matter  what  the  music 
may  be,"  interrupted  the  girl  brusquely  ;  and  then 
to  Mary's  astonishment  she  suddenly  stepped 
through  the  door  and  was  gone. 

Sunday  afternoons,  after  the  little  Sunday-school 
was  over,  were  always  spent  by  Mary  in  her  own 
inner  room,  as  fresh  and  dainty  as  could  be  found 
in  all  the  republic,  and  she  enjoyed  the  hours  of 
silence  and  peace  which  were  necessary  to  her 
welfare.  This  afternoon  the  children  and  the 
parents  had  seemed  unusually  interested  in  the 
Sunday-school  lesson,  and  Mary  and  Senor  Jim- 
enez had  had  a  little  talk  afterward,  in  which 
each  had  felt  that  he  could  encourage  the  other. 
Then  Senor  Jimenez  had  ridden  away  to  a  neigh- 
boring ranch  where  he  was  to  hold  an  evening 
sendee,  and  Mary  strolled  homeward  in  the  clear, 
crisp  afternoon  air,  with  a  great  peace  and  happi- 
ness in  her  heart.  If  sne  could  only  win  Angela, 
what  might  not  follow? 

She  came  to  the  window  of  her  room  which 
opened  upon  the  road  and  which  could  be  made 
into  a  door  as  well,  and  here  to  her  surprise  she 
found  Refugio  standing  on  the  step. 

"I  opened  this  door,  senorita,"  she  said,  in  a 
half-whisper,  "  because  the  court  is  already  full  of 
relations,  and  there  are  so  many  men,  and  there  is 
so  much  noise  that  I  thought  you  would  rather 
enter  without  passing  by  them." 


SUNDAY  AT  THE  RANCH.  79 

"What  a  thoughtful  Cuca  !  "  said  Mary,  really 
grateful  for  the  delicacy  of  the  girl's  act,  yet  not 
surprised,  for  she  had  long  since  ceased  being 
surprised  at  the  constant  thoughtfulness  shown 
her  by  the  little  rancherita.1  "  Indeed,"  she  con- 
tinued, "  this  is  much  better,  and  now  I  shall 
rest  awhile.  What  would  you  like,  Cuca  ?  Some- 
thing to  read  ?  " 

"  I  shall  sit  outside  here,  senorita,  if  you  do 
not  mind,  and  no  one  shall  disturb  you,  for  I  have 
locked  the  door  on  the  court." 

Mary  entered  the  bedroom  and  for  an  hour  all 
was  quiet  as  she  sat  at  her  little  table  writing. 
The  door,  turned  again  into  a  window  by  closing 
the  half-leaves  below,  gave  a  view  of  spreading 
plain  and  purple  mountain,  so  lovely  that  neither 
writing  nor  reading  progressed  very  far.  The 
room  was  high  pitched,  as  all  Mexican  houses  of 
the  better  class  are,  and  the  beams  overhead  were 
brown  with  age,  and  perhaps  not  altogether  free 
from  cobwebs,  as  nothing  shorter  than  a  twenty- 
foot  pole  would  have  reached  them.  The  walls 
were  only  whitewashed,  but  were  as  white  as  white 
could  be,  and  a  thick  soft  mat  covered  the  earth- 
floor.  A  single  iron  bedstead  was  draped  in  white, 
with  full  net  curtains,  as  protection  against  mos- 
quitoes, and  an  old-fashioned  chest  of  drawers  on 
one  side  faced  a  daintily  appointed  dressing-table 
on  the  other.  The  latter  was  only  a  box  under- 

1  Little  country  girl  cr  peasant. 


80  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

neatli,  but  its  muslin  drapery  was  purity  itself, 
and  surely  no  pier  glass  ever  reflected  a  lovelier 
face  than  did  that  tiny,  gilt-bound  mirror  swung 
between  the  curtains  of  the  toilet  table.  Out  of 
another  smaller  box,  Jose"  and  Mary  had  evolved 
a  bookcase  of  wonderful  design,  and  this  also  was 
curtained  with  light  flowered  mull.  A  wicker 
rocker,  one  or  two  other  chairs,  and  the  large, 
round  table  which  held  books  and  writing  mate- 
rials, completed  the  furniture  of  the  room.  Two 
or  three  brightly  dyed  goatskins  gave  spots  of 
color  here  and  there,  and  Mary  herself,  as  she  sat 
at  the  table  writing,  gave  a  very  unconscious  air 
of  completeness  to  the  whole.  Her  face  was 
flushed,  perhaps  with  the  memories  that  the  half- 
written  letter  before  her  recalled  to  her  mind. 
The  first  page  began,  "  My  dearest  grandmamma," 
and  she  was  beginning  a  second  sheet  when  a 
great  clamor  of  horses'  feet,  and  wheels,  and  bark- 
ing dogs,  and  women's  shrill  voices,  and  men's 
deeper  tones,  arrested  her  pen  just  as  Refugio's 
face  appeared  above  the  half-door,  full  of  eager 
excitement. 

"He  has  come,  senorita,"  she  cried.  "The 
capitan  has  come  !  " 

u  How  glad  his  mother  and  all  the  rest  will  be, 
Cuca,"  replied  Mary. 

"Such  a  brave,  noble  fellow,  Dona  Rosa  says 
he  is,"  continued  the  girl,  with  enthusiasm. 
"Hark,  is  not  that  his  swdrd  clanking  on  the 


SUNDAY  AT  THE   RANCH.  8l 

pavement  of  the  court  ?  What  a  grand  thing  it 
must  be  to  be  the  mother  of  a  capitan" 

Mary  was  not  so  sure  of  this  as  was  Refugio, 
and  she  said  nothing  to  dampen  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  girl,  but  only  smiled  to  herself  as  she  pro- 
ceeded with  her  letter,  more  rapidly  now,  as  the 
same  diligence  which  had  brought  Captain  Daniel, 
would  carry  the  infinitesimal  mail  of  San  Bernabe" 
to  S ,  the  next  morning. 

Meantime,  the  court,  the  kitchen,  and  the  sala1 
were  scenes  of  mirth  and  rejoicing  over  the  arrival. 
Outside  the  gateway  were  huddled  the  children 
of  the  ranch  who  did  not  belong  to  the  Vera 
family,  and  many  half-grown  girls  and  women 
loitered  in  sight  of  the  cheer  and  happiness  within. 

The  young  officer,  object  of  so  much  bustle  and 
attention,  sat  at  Bduardo's  left  hand,  whose  right 
was  occupied  by  old  Raquel,  and  his  bronzed  face, 
bright  eyes,  and  dashing  mustache  were  perfection 
in  his  mother's  eyes.  That  admiring  dame  sat  at 
Daniel's  feet  on  a  low  stool,  and  from  time  to 
time,  stroked  gently  the  dark  blue  cloth  of  her 
boy's  sleeve,  ineffable  pride  showing  on  her  smil- 
ing face. 

Never  before  had  such  a  brave  sight  gladdened 
the  eyes  of  San  Bernab£  as  this  gay  officer  presented, 
sitting  with  cap  pushed  back  from  his  forehead, 
and  one  hand  laid  on  the  hilt  of  his  sword.  The 
gold  of  his  epaulets,  the  red  stripes  of  his  uniform, 

i  Parlor. 


82  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

the  spotless  linen  cuffs  and  collar,  and  the  shining, 
patent-leather  tipped  shoes  made  a  picture  which 
caused  the  heart  of  San  Bernabe"  to  bound  with 
admiration  and  delight.  It  is  true  that  bands  of 
soldiers  had  tramped  through  the  ranch  from 
time  to  time,  detachments  sent  over  the  mountains 
for  the  detention  of  brigands,  and  sometimes  they 
had  been  received  into  that  very  court  and  treated 
according  to  Mexico's  universal  laws  of  hospital- 
ity, but  they  had  been  usually  'too  travel-worn 
and  weary  to  do  more  than  eat,  drink,  and  then 
roll  over  upon  their  mats  for  sleep.  But  this 
bright  star  was  San  Bernabd's  own,  and  was  to  re- 
main in  the  ranch  for  two  weeks,  so  that  each 
one  might  hope  to  be  able  at  least  to  see  him. 

"So,  Angela,"  the  young  captain  was  saying, 
"  thou  and  Jose"  are  making  up  to  one  another. 
Thou  seest  that  I  know  something  of  what  passes 
in  the  bosom  of  my  family,  though  so  far  away. 
And  by  the  way,  where  is  Jose"?"  he  questioned, 
looking  carelessly  over  the  group  of  youths  loung- 
ing at  a  respectful  distance.  "I  have  not  seen 
him,  have  I?  It  is  so  hard  to  know  each  one 
when  one's  family  connection  is  so  large,"  he 
ended,  with  an  affected  drawl. 

"  No,  indeed,  Cousin  Daniel,"  replied  Angela, 
who  was  all  sparkles  now  and  ready  to  take  up  the 
the  cudgels  at  what  she  fancied  some  slight  upon 
the  absent  Jose",  "  thou  hast  not  yet  seen  Jose",  or 
thou  wouldst  not  need  to  ask.  He  is  the  finest 


SUNDAY  AT  THE  RANCH.  83 

cousin  I  have,  if  he  does  not  wear  tight  trousers, 
and  pinch  his  toes,  and  play  with  a  sword  all  day. 
There,"  she  ended  defiantly,  and  springing  up, 
she  rushed  across  the  court,  and  almost  without 
knowing  what  she  did,  tapped  at  Mary's  door. 

"  Let  me  come  in,  please,"  she  cried,  as  Mary 
opened  the  door  ;  "I  am  frightened,  and  I  am 
glad  also,  for  I  have  given  that  stuck-up  little 
capitan  a  piece  of  my  mind.  How  Aunt  Rosa 
will  hate  me !  But  he  should  not  have  taken 
upon  himself  so  many  airs  ! ' ' 

"  Why,  where  has  she  gone,  the  little  fiend  ?  " 
asked  the  young  man,  as  he  saw  the  door  close 
upon  her.  "  Holy  Virgin  !  but  she  is  a  beauty  ! 
Has  she  gone  to  find  Jose*  ?  "  with  a  sneer. 

"That  is  the  sefiorita  Americana1 s  room,"  re- 
plied Petra.  ' '  And  surely  I  must  be  bewitched 
to  be  sitting  here  gaping  when  the  pobrecita^ 
must  be  starving !  "  and  the  good  Petra  hastened 
off  to  the  kitchen,  whence  she  emerged  not  many 
minutes  later,  carrying  a  small  tray  containing  a 
cup  of  foaming  chocolate  and  a  white  bun. 

"'The  sefiorita  Americana  I"*"  exclaimed 
Captain  Daniel.  "And  who  is  she  ?  Why  is  she 
here  ?  "  with  great  animation. 

"The  little  Protestant,"  sneered  Dona  Rosa. 
"  Thou  needst  not  trouble  thy  brains  about  her  ; 
she  will  never  do  thee  any  harm,  the  little  white- 
haired  fool ! " 

1  Poor  little  one,  an  expression  of  affection,  as  well  as  of  pity. 


84  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

"Who  is  she,  papa?  "  repeated  Daniel,  looking 
at  his  father.  "  What  is  her  name  ?  " 

"  The  Senorita  Maria  Veranos,"  replied  the 
father,  curtly. 

' '  Veranos  ? ' '  said  Daniel,  Jr.  ' '  Who  ever  heard 
of  such  a  name  ?  And  yet  thou  saidst  that  she  is 
Americana  !  " 

' '  Veranos  is  her  name  turned  into  our  language, 
Daniel,"  interrupted  Raquel.  "Bless  her  pretty 
face  and  her  sweet  voice  !  " 

"Veranos,  Veranos  !  "  exclaimed  Don  Eduardo, 
catching  at  the  name.  "  That  is  our  senorita's 
name.  Where  is  she  ?  Has  no  one  invited  her  to 
merienda  with  us  ?  What  can  you  all  be  think- 
ing of?" 

"  Petra  has  carried  her  chocolate,  father,"  said 
Raquel  to  her  husband.  "  Thou  knowest  that  on 
Sunday  she  stays  alone  in  her  room." 

The  entrance  of  Jose"  now  created  a  diversion,  and 
the  young  men  met  in  a  warm  embrace.  Then 
Daniel,  still  clasping  Jose"  by  the  shoulders,  held 
him  at  arm's  length,  and  exclaimed  : 

"Well,  in  truth,  thou  art  a  fine  fellow,  Jose*,  as 
thy  Angela  says.  Thou  art  a  giant  beside  me," 
looking  with  ill-concealed  pride,  however,  down 
his  own  trim,  small  figure,  and  up  again  into  Josh's 
fine  face.  "  How  old  are  you,  man  ?  " 

"  As  old  as  thyself,  less  three  months,  Daniel," 
replied  Jose",  "  which  makes  me  twenty-four,  if  I 
mistake  not." 


SUNDAY   AT   THE   RANCH.  85 

"Thou  twenty-four  already!"  rejoined  his 
nephew,  whose  bad,  bright  eyes  fell  before  the 
manly  gaze  of  Jose*.  "  Ah,"  laughing  slightly,  as 
he  turned  away  toward  the  table  that  was  being 
laid  in  the  court,  "  thou  shouldst  come  to 
Mexico  City,  where  three  months  would  add  three 
years  to  thy  age  ! ' ' 

As  they  gathered  about  the  table,  some  standing, 
others  lounging  on  rough  benches,  Angela  reap- 
peared and  took  her  place  demurely  in  Daniel's 
seat  at  her  grandfather's  left  hand. 

"Ah,  little  one,"  exclaimed  Daniel,  perceiving 
the  small,  plump  figure  in  his  chair,  as  he  turned 
away  from  Jose,  "  thy  wings  are  swift  as  thy 
tongue.  Where  dost  thou  keep  them  folded  away 
out  of  sight,  so  that  we  mortals  cannot  see  them  ? 
And  whither  didst  thou  fly,  little  angel  ?  " 

Angela  made  him  no  answer  save  a  toss  of  the 
head.  Wound  gracefully  over  her  shoulders  she 
wore  a  thin,  gauzy  rebozo  of  silk,  of  a  beautiful 
rose  color,  and  her  dress  was  of  white  lawn  dotted 
with  pink,  and  her  tiny  feet  were  shod  with  the 
high-heeled,  high-arched  kid  shoes,  dear  to  the 
heart  of  the  Mexican  maiden.  Her  coal-black 
hair  was  drawn  in  a  shining  mass  to  the  top  of  her 
head,  while  about  her  neck  and  ears  waved  tiny 
love-locks  that  softened  the  half-bold  beauty  of 
the  rosy  face. 

She  glanced  at  Jose",  and  finding  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  her  in  unusual  admiration,  she  leaned  toward 


86  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

him  and  said  with  a  half-shy  and  half-defiant  ex- 
pression in  her  eyes : 

"I  have  been  talking  with  Mariquita,  Jose", 
and  she  has  promised  to  teach  me  music  too,  if 
mamma  will  consent  to  let  me  stay  here  at  the 
ranch  with  Uncle  Eduardo.  What  thinkest  thou 
of  that,  my  Pepe  ? 1  Now  we  shall  be  rivals,  and 
I  wonder  which  will  love  the  senorita  best,  thou 
or  I." 

"I  think,  Angela,  that  that  will  not  be  the 
question  for  us,"  replied  Jose",  growing  a  little  pale, 
Angela  thought,  as  she  watched  him  searchingly, 
though  his  voice  was  firm  and  sweet.  "  I  am 
glad  thou  art  going  to  study  music  also  and  I 
know  that  thou  wilt  succeed.  I  often  think  when 
my  big  fingers  stumble  over  the  keys  how  much 
better  thy  small  hands  would  do  the  work,"  and 
he  took  one  of  the  little  hands,  stretched  upon  the 
table  in  the  position  for  playing,  caressingly  into 
his  own. 

And  Angela  was  satisfied,  and  drank  her  choco- 
late and  ate  her  tamales?  taking  no  further  notice 
of  the  little  captain. 

1  A  pet  name  for  Jose  or  Joseph. 

*  Tamales  are  rolled  tortillas  stuffed  with  seasoned  meat  chopped 
fine  and  cooked  in  corn-shucks. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY. 

So  others  shall 

Take  patience,  labor  to  their  heart  and  hand, 
From  thy  hand  and  thy  heart,  and  thy  brave  cheer, 
And  God's  grace  fructify  through  thee  to  all ; 
The  least  flower,  with  a  brimming  cup  may  stand 
And  share  its  dew-drop  with  another  near. — Mrs.  Browning, 

THE  feasting  continued  for  several  days  and 
was  to  end  on  Thursday  with  a  grand  picnic 
in  the  pine  woods  which  clothed  the  nearest  of 
the  foot-hills,  a  distance  of  a  league  from  the 
ranch.  As  Thursday  was  a  half-holiday,  Mary 
promised  the  entire  day  to  her  eager  scholars,  and 
on  Wednesday  evening  was  sitting  reading  in  her 
room,  enjoying  in  prospect  the  long,  free  day 
before  her  when  she  would  be  left  alone  in  the 
house  wrhile  most  of  the  ranch  would  be  absent  at 
the  picnic.  It  had  been  taken  for  granted  that 
she  would  accompany  the  Veras,  and  out  in  the 
court  a  final  council  was  being  held  for  assigning 
places  in  the  wagons  and  ox-carts  for  the  women 
and  children.  When  Miss  Summers'  name  was 
mentioned,  I^efugio  said  in  a  soft  voice  to  Petra  : 
' '  But  the  senorita  is  not  going,  Dona  Petra ; 

87 


83  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

she  told  me  this  morning  that  she  would  write 
letters  all  day  to-morrow." 

"  Dost  thou  hear  this,  Jose  !  "  cried  Petra  ;  "  Re« 
fugio  says  that  Mariquita  will  stay  at  home?  " 

"Who?"  interruped  Captain  Daniel.  "Is  not 
the  Seiiorita  Maria  going  !  Then  I  say  we  shall 
put  off  the  picnic  until  a  day  when  she  can  go." 

Jose"  said  nothing,  but  looked  disappointed. 

"  I  shall  go  and  see,"  exclaimed  Angela,  jump- 
ing up  from  her  seat,  and  starting  toward  Mary's 
apartment. 

"And  I  with  thee  ! "  laughed  the  captain,  has- 
tening after  her. 

Miss  Summers  had  already  met  Daniel  several 
times  in  the  court  and  outside  in  the  village,  and 
the  bold  admiration  in  his  glance  had  amused 
while  it  annoyed  her. 

She  now,  however,  politely  invited  him  with  his 
companion  to  enter  her  little  ante-room  and  to  sit 
down. 

Angela  begged  that  she  would  accompany  them 
the  next  day,  and  the  captain  added  his  plea. 

"  Surely  you  are  both  very  kind,"  replied  Mary, 
"  but  I  hardly  know  how  I  can  spare  the  day.  Be- 
sides, I  have  promised  to  go  to  El  Porvenir  to  see 
Juan  Gutierrez'  little  girl,  who  is  sick  and  has 
not  been  able  to  come  to  school  for  several  days. 
No,"  she  added,  decidedly,  "I  must  not  go  to- 
morrow." 

1 '  But  in  the  afternoon,  senorita,  after  you  have 


ou>  JUANA'S  PROPHECY.  89 

done  your  letters  and  El  Porvenir,  I  shall  come 
back  here  for  you  and  you  will  let  me  drive  you 
to  the  Pond,  is  it  not  so  ?  "  asked  Daniel,  eagerly. 

"No,  senor,"  she  replied,  "that  will  be  impos- 
sible. I  thank  you,  but  I  cannot  go. " 

"Then  the  day  will  be  spoiled,"  cried  Angela, 
impetuously,  as  she  arose  to  leave  the  room  ;  "  and 
I  know  how  cross  Jose  will  be,  and  we  shall  all  be 
glad  when  it  is  over." 

"Yes,"  added  the  captain,  "the  day  will  be 
spoiled.  But,  it  will  be  only  a  day  after  all,  and 
we  must  endure  it. ' ' 

Mary  arose  with  them,  repeating  her  regrets 
sincerely,  surprised  that  the  party  had  really  been 
counting  upon  her  presence. 

"  She  will  not  go,"  exclaimed  Angela,  rejoining 
the  company  in  the  court ;  "  and  if  she  refused 
when  Cousin  Daniel  pleaded  with  her,  there  is  no 
further  use  of  speaking  of  it."  She  ended  with 
an  adorable  glance  at  the  captain,  who  stood  twist- 
ing his  mustaches  vexedly,  and  for  a  great  wonder 
unconscious  of  Angela's  coquetry.  Since  the  first 
afternoon  of  Daniel's  arrival,  she  had  seemed  to 
change  her  mind  as  to  the  captain's  charms,  and 
if  Jose  was  at  all  in  love  with  her,  and  noticed 
her  charming  airs  when  the  captain  was  near,  he 
must  have  writhed  under  pangs  of  jealousy  insup- 
portable. 

"The  sefiorita  will  do  as  she  pleases,"  said  Jose*, 
quietly.  ' '  The  picnic  is  in  your  honor,  Daniel, 


90  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

and  all  of  your  friends  will  be  there.  There  can 
be  no  question  of  putting  it  off,  because  they  are 
already  invited,  and  it  would  not  be  possible  to 
notify  them  in  time." 

When  Mary  was  preparing  for  bed  awhile  later, 
a  gentle  tap  at  the  door  announced  Petra,  who  had 
only  looked  in  on  her  way  to  her  own  room  to 
say  :  "I  wish  you  would  go,  senorita,  but  we  wish 
you  to  do  just  as  you  wish,  and  after  all  you 
would  find  it  very  tiresome  I  fear,  as  so  many 
would  be  strangers  to  you.  Do  not  mind  what 
Angela  says  ;  it  is  only  that  she  loves  you,  as  we  all 
do,"  she  concluded,  affectionately. 

"  Thank  you,  Petra,  for  coming  to  tell  me  this," 
she  replied,  "for  I  felt  sorry  to  disappoint  any 
one,  but  I  have  promised  the  little  one  to  go  to 
see  her  to-morrow,  and  she  is  very  sick  I  fear. 
Good  night,  Petrita,  and  a  pleasant  day  to-mor- 
row." 

' '  Buenos  noches,  senorita  ;  que  pase  una  noche 
muy  feliz!"  1 

"Oh,  Petra,"  called  Mary,  as  she  was  closing 
the  door,  "  they  will  leave  me  the  pony,  will  they 
not  ?  " 

"  Of  course  the  pony  will  be  left  for  you,  Se- 
norita," answered  a  deeper  voice  than  Petra's,  and 
Josd's  tall  figure  stood  in  the  bright  moonlight 
before  her.  Petra  had  already  entered  her  room 
and  closed  the  door. 

1  "  Good-night,  miss ;  may  you  pass  a  happy  night !  " 


OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY.  91 

"The  pony  is  yours,"  he  continued,  udo  you 
not  know  that  ?  ' ' 

"  Thank  you,  Jose","  she  replied.  "  I  do  need 
him  very  much  for  to-morrow,  and  I  have  not  had 
a  gallop  for  a  long  time." 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  not  going  to-morrow,  se- 
norita,"  continued  Jose",  thoughtfully.  "At  first, 
I  was  sorry  ;  now  I  see  that  it  is  best.  It  will  not 
be  just  exactly  like  the  little  church  fiesta1  papa 
gave  not  long  ago.  It  will  be  very  gay,  and  there 
will  be  dancing,  and  you  say  you  do  not  care  to 
dance." 

"No,  I  do  not  know  how  to  dance,"  she  re- 
turned, smiling.  "  I  hope  you  will  enjoy  the  day 
very  much,  Jose" ;  good  night."  And  Mary  disap- 
peared. 

"  A  word  with  thee,  Jose  mio"  said  a  voice  at 
Josh's  elbow,  as  he  was  about  to  enter  his  door 
farther  on.  "  The  moon  is  fine,  let  us  walk  a  little 
way  before  going  to  bed. "  . 

"  With  all  my  heart,  Daniel,"  replied  his  young 
uncle,  wondering  what  he  could  have  to  say  to 
him. 

"  A  fine  night,"  remarked  the  young  officer,  as 
they  walked  on  past  the  gate,  and  out  upon  the 
white  road.  ' '  The  rains  are  late  this  year.  Ca- 
ramba!'i  but  I  should  not  like  to  live  here  during 
the  winter,  with  the  roofs  leaking,  the  court-yard 

1  Feast  or  holiday. 

*  An  interjection,  expressing  surprise  or  dismay. 


0,2  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

a  lake,  and  every  dog,  cat,  woman,  and  child  hud- 
dling over  the  brazero 1  to  keep  warm  !  What  do 
the  fellows  do  here  all  winter  lor*^?  What  do 
you  do,  Jose?  " 

"I?  Oh,  I  find  a  dry  spot  near  the  brazero 
also,  and  '  huddle  '  there,  dodging  the  leaks  till 
the  rain  stops  and  the  sun  shines  again,"  replied 
Jose,  gravely.  "  And  then  you  know  it  does  not 
rain  every  day.  Sometimes  it  does  not  rain  for 
several  weeks,  and  the  air  is  clear  and  cold  and 
we  go  hunting,  do  we  not,  old  boy?"  patting  the 
head  of  his  dog,  that  was  walking  close  at  his 
side.  "And  then  at  night  when  it  rains  I  read, 
and  this  winter  I  shall  have  the  music  and — and 
other  studies.  Oh,  I  do  very  well  during  the 
winter." 

Captain  Daniel  wondered  at  the  slight  smile 
curving  the  grave  lips  of  his  companion,  and 
caught  at  the  word  music. 

1 '  So  you  play,  do  you  ?  On  what  instrument, 
the  violin  or  the  guitar?  " 

"  On  the  organ  in  the  chapel,"  replied  Jose. 

"  Oh,  I  see  !  On  the  organ  of  the  little  Protest- 
ant, as  mamma  calls  her.  By  the  way,  Jose",  with 
which  art  thou  in  love,  with  the  senorita  Ameri- 
cana or  with  our  Angela?  " 

Jose*  hesitated  a  few  seconds,  then  replied  : 

"If  I  answer  thee,  Daniel,  what  will  you  do 
then?" 

1  Brazier. 


OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY.  93 

"  Make  love  to  the  other,  of  course,"  replied 
Daniel,  laughing  harshly,  "that  is,  if  the  fancy 
does  not  strike  me  to  cross  thee.  Come,  confess." 

Jose  was  again  silent  for  a  moment,  then  point- 
ing to  a  tiny  spark  of  light  glimmering  in  a 
neighboring  ranch,  he  replied  slowly  and  impres- 
sively : 

"  Do  you  see  that  point  of  light,  Danielito,  far 
away  at  Bl  Porvenir  ?  " 

"Of  course,  Pepe  mio"  replied  Daniel,  both 
having  fallen  unconsciously  into  using  the  di- 
minutives of  their  childish  days. 

"  And  the  moon  overhead  ?  "  and  both  looked 
up  into  the  heavens,  where  the  full  moon  was 
shining  in  unclouded  splendor. 

"  Yes,"  again  assented  Daniel,  looking  a  second 
time  curiously  into  his  companion's  open,  intelli- 
gent countenance. 

"  Bien,  amigomio1.  Understand,  then,  that  as 
that  little  light  over  there  is  to  the  brilliancy  of 
the  moon  in  the  sky  above  us,  so  am  I,  so  art  thou, 
to  the  Senorita  Maria. ' ' 

"And  you  do  not  love  her?"  persisted  Daniel, 
a  little  cruelly  perhaps. 

"  Yes,  I  love  her,"  replied  Jose",  slowly.  "  And 
she  knows  as  much  of  it  as  the  moon  does,  for  I 
am  as  near  to  her  as  I  am  to  the  moon." 

"And  Angelita?" 

"  Love  her,  if  thou  wilt,  but  be  a  man  and  do 

1  Well,  my  friend. 


94  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

not    treat    her    as   a   child.      She  is  a  woman 
now. ' ' 

"Yes,  and  loves  you." 

"  Enough  of  this  nonsense  !  "  exclaimed  Jose", 
carelessly.  "  Is  this  the  talk  you  brought  me 
out  to  hear?" 

Yet  Jose"  that  night  did  not  sleep  so  soon  as 
Captain  Daniel,  and  it  is  even  doubtful  whether 
he  closed  his  eyes  at  all  before  the  early  rising 
the  next  morning  for  the  start  to  the  picnic 
grounds. 

Miss  Summers  was  aroused  by  the  clamor  be- 
fore the  light  of  the  rather  chilly  morning  had  • 
fully  dawned.     Don  Eduardo's  premises  were  to 
be  the  starting  point,  and  by  half-past  five  o'clock 
preparations  had  begun. 

She  was  lying  half  dreaming  an  hour  later, 
when  Refugio  gently  tapped  at  her  window  to 
bid  her  young  mistress  farewell,  if  she  should  be 
awake.  She  went  to  the  window  and  gave  her 
young  charge  some  parting  directions.  She  had 
already  given  her  into  Petra's  special  care,  and 
the  latter  had  promised  to  keep  her  with  her  all 
day. 

Refugio's  eyes  were  sparkling  with  joyous 
anticipation  of  the  delight  of  riding  to  the  moun- 
tain in  an  ox-cart  beside  Petra.  She  looked 
exceedingly  pretty  in  her  pink  gingham  dress, 
with  her  dark  blue  rebozo  thrown  picturesquely 
over  her  head  and  shoulders.  Jose*  had  not 


OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY.  95 

mounted  his  horse  yet,  and  stood  in  the  road 
opposite  Mary's  window,  assisting  in  getting  the 
procession  of  motley  vehicles  and  steeds  under 
way.  He  was  very  handsome  in  his  holiday  suit, 
which  set  off  his  fine  figure  to  perfection.  A 
clatter  of  hoofs  and  a  general  scurry  of  dogs  and 
pedestrians  announced  the  approach  of  a  reckless 
horseman,  and  all  watched  the  little  captain  as 
he  rounded  the  corner  from  the  stables  and  gal- 
loped up  to  Jose.  He  was  mounted  on  a  great 
black  horse,  and  sat  stiff  and  upright  in  the  pon- 
derous Spanish  saddle  of  beautifully  embossed 
leather.  Every  part  of  his  uniform  was  immacu- 
late, from  his  cap  to  the  pointed  toe  of  his  little 
boot,  and  besides  his  clattering  sword,  a  pistol 
showed  at  his  side.  Jose  was  also  armed,  a  pistol 
on  each  side  gleaming  below  his  waistcoat,  and 
he  saluted  politely  as  this  bright  vision  dashed  up 
to  his  side. 

"All  are  here  now,  of  our  party,"  said  Jose  ; 
"  it  is  time  to  start.  You,  Antonio,  bring  up  my 
horse." 

He  mounted  his  horse,  a  fine  gray  of  noble 
proportions,  bearing  a  saddle  resembling  Daniel's, 
behind  which  a  gayly  colored  blanket  was  strapped, 
The  two  friends  headed  the  party,  and  their 
horses  fretted  with  long  waiting,  and  piqued  by 
the  crispness  of  the  morning  air,  gave  their  riders 
as  much  as  they  could  do  to  control  them.  Then 
followed  the  creaking  ox-carts,  each  accompanied 


96  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

by  a  youth  on  foot  bearing  a  stout,  six-foot  pole 
having  a  sharply  pointed  goad  of  steel  at  one  end  ; 
quite  a  drove  of  little  donkeys  and  ugly  little 
broncos  trotted  and  pranced  before  and  behind, 
mounted  by  half-grown  boys  and  girls,  and  the 
rear  was  closed  in  by  a  quaint  old  chaise  drawn  by 
two  work-horses,  and  bearing  the  patriarch,  his 
wife,  and  his  Benjamin. 

After  all  were  gone,  the  village  was  very  quiet 
and  seemed  to  have  sunk  to  sleep  again.  The  day 
was  cooler  than  any  of  the  season  so  far,  and 
heavy  blue  clouds  stood  ready  to  receive  the  sun 
when  he  should  appear  above  the  mountain. 

Miss  Summers  spoke  of  the  threatening  look  of 
the  sky  when,  an  hour  later,  the  old  woman  who 
had  been  left  in  charge  of  the  house,  brought  her 
some  hot  tortillas  and  a  couple  of  fresh  eggs  for 
breakfast. 

"  It  will  not  rain  to-day,"  replied  the  old  crone, 
shaking  her  head,  "but  before  many  days  'the 
waters'  will  begin.  For  many  months  we  have 
had  no  clouds,  not  one  in  the  sky,  and  I  said  as  I 
saw  them  this  morning,  one  more  week  to  get  the 
roofs  in  order,  one  more  week  to  finish  the  thresh- 
ing of  the  beans,  and  then  they  will  come,  the 
waters  ! " 

Mary  had  chosen  to  make  her  own  breakfast  in 
Petra's  absence,  and  already  the  water  in  the  little 
brass  tea-kettle  was  boiling  and  the  table  laid. 
After  making  tea  in  a  gay  little  Japan  teapot,  she 


OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY.  97 

poured  the  remainder  of  the  boiling  water  over  the 
eggs,  and  five  minutes  later  sat  down  to  her  simple 
morning  meal.  Her  thoughts  were  very  busy, 
and  the  loneliness  of  the  house  did  not  impress  her 
as  it  would  certainly  have  done  otherwise.  First, 
there  was  a  letter  to  be  written  to  a  children's  mis- 
sionary society  at  home.  The  leader  had  written 
several  weeks  before,  asking  for  a  letter  which 
would  interest  the  children  and  prove  a  tempting 
bait  for  gathering  in  several  who  had  strayed  from 
the  meetings. 

"  Your  letters  always  please  them  so,"  the  leader 
had  written.  "  Your  name  is  an  inspiration  to 
them,  and  if  they  could  only  have  a  short  greeting 
from  you  every  month  for  each  meeting,  I  am  sure 
they  would  do  wonders." 

This,  of  course,  was  pleasant  to  hear,  but  as 
she  had  such  letters  by  almost  every  mail,  it  was 
fast  growing  impossible  to  answer  them  all. 

"  If  I  could  only  copy  one  letter  and  send  the 
same  to  a  dozen  societies,  it  would  be  so  much 
easier,"  she  reflected.  "  Copying  paper  is  a  sim- 
ple thing  to  manage  ;  but  then,  some  society  with- 
out thinking  it  necessary  to  consult  me,  would 
publish  their  letter  in  the  missionary  column  of 
some  newspaper,  and  then  where  would  I  be,  and 
my  copied  letters  ? ' ' 

After  the  letter,  she  must  prepare  her  quarterly 
report  for  the  Mission  Board,  giving  briefly  some 
account  of  the  work  at  San  Bernabe  since  Au- 

G 


98  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

gust.  And  after  dinner  she  must  set  out  for  El 
Porvenir. 

While  washing  the  breakfast  dishes  and  arrang- 
ing her  rooms,  she  planned  the  main  points  of  her 
missionary  letter  and,  after  that,  the  hours  flew  by 
until,  to  her  great  astonishment,  the  tousled  gray 
head  of  the  old  woman  was  again  thrust  into  the 
room,  with  the  inquiry  as  to  whether  she  was 
ready  for  dinner. 

"  Oh,  dinner  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "Why  I  have 
just  finished  breakfast,  Juana  mia!  " 

"With  the  sun  saying  that  it  is  one  o'clock, 
seiiorita?  Thou  must  have  been  asleep.  Thy 
dinner  is  ready. " 

And  so  was  Mary,  as  she  found,  after  signing 
her  name  to  the  last  page  which  she  had  written. 
She  stepped  to  the  well  for  a  drink  of  fresh  water 
which  the  old  woman  had  just  drawn,  and  found 
the  heat  of  the  sun  almost  insupportable.  W'hat 
seemed  the  same  dark  clouds  of  the  morning,  only 
shifted  around  to  the  west,  lay  banked  closely 
about  the  horizon,  while  the  sun  glared  through 
the  steely  blue  ether  overhead. 

"  Will  it  rain,  Juana  ?  "  she  asked  again. 

"  No,"  she  replied,  as  before  ;  "  not  to-day,  nor 
to-morrow." 

"But  see  those  clouds  in  the  west,  and  this 
still,  hot  air  is  unusual  so  late  in  the  season,  I  am 
sure.  I  have  seen  nothing  like  it  since  I  came  to 
San  BernabeV' 


OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY.  99 

"Those  clouds  are  full  of  wind,  not  water," 
muttered  Juana,  in  reply  ;  "  and  those  who  seek 
for  pleasure  would  better  seek  it  nearer  home. ' ' 

"  There  will  be  a  storm  then  ?  " 

' '  Yes,  but  not  yet !  not  yet !  Not  until  night, 
senorita,  and  do  not  be  afraid,  Mariquita ;  the 
Holy  Virgin  will  preserve  you.  You  are  not  to 
perish  in  a  storm  of  wind.  Oh,  no.  There  will 
be  people  there,  then,  many,  many  people ;  and 
there  will  be  blood,  and  little  children  will  be 
killed,  and  mothers  will  weep,  and  fathers  will 
curse  and  kill " 

Mary  looked  in  amazement  at  the  old  creature, 
who  was  crouching  now  on  the  ground  and  draw- 
ing mystic  figures  in  the  sand  at  her  feet. 

"What  are  you  saying,  friend?"  asked  Mary, 
stooping,  and  laying  her  hand  on  the  woman's 
shoulder.  "  That  there  will  come  a  danger  to  us 
such  as  you  describe  ?  " 

"  Do  I  not  say  so?  No,  the  storm  then  will  not 
be  of  wind,  and  who  will  preserve  you  then  ?  Not 
the  most  holy  mother  of  God.  No,  no,  no !  In 
her  name  will  they  come." 

Here  she  began  muttering  again,  and  Mary 
walked  off  to  her  room  and  dinner,  not  without 
an  uncanny  tinge  to  her  thoughts. 

This  was  quickly  dispelled,  however,  in  doing 
justice  to  the  dinner  set  before  her.  After  dinner, 
finding  that  the  sun  would  be  too  hot  for  her  visit 
to  the  neighboring  ranch  for  some  time  yet,  she 


100  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

ordered  one  of  the  laborers  at  dinner  in  the  court, 
to  bring  the  pony  to  the  door  at  half-past  three, 
then  setting  her  little  alarm  clock  for  that  hour, 
she  threw  herself  on  the  bed  and  for  two  hours 
enjoyed  a  sound,  dreamless  sleep,  undisturbed  by 
any  harrowing  visions. 

About  half-past  four,  Mary  cantered  up  to  the 
open  doorway  of  a  small  adobe  cottage  in  El  Por- 
venir,  standing  a  short  distance  back  from  the 
bridal  path,  which  had  branched  off  from  the  main 
road  a  mile  or  so  back.  She  slipped  easily  from 
the  saddle,  and  fastening  a  lasso,  coiled  on  one  side 
of  the  saddle,  to  a  strong  stake  in  front  of  the 
house,  left  her  pony  nibbling  at  the  short,  dry 
prairie  grass  and  went  toward  the  house.  Every- 
thing was  spotlessly  neat  and  clean,  from  the  sandy 
space  about  the  door  to  the  little  hallway,  and  on 
into  a  large,  bare  reception  room,  called  the  sala. 
As  she  stood  at  the  door,  a  pleasant-faced  woman 
appeared  from  a  back  room  and  saluted  her  with 
delight  and  affection. 

"  Oh,  little  sister,  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you ! 
Lola  has  been  asking  for  you  all  day  long,  and 
has  sent  her  papa  a  dozen  times  to  see  if  he  could 
see  you  coming.  One  of  us  has  to  stay  with  her 
all  the  time,  as  she  is  not  quite  herself  and  tries 
to  get  up  and  run  out  to  the  well.  She  is  burn- 
ing up  inside,  she  says,"  and  the  mother's  voice 
grew  very  anxious. 


OIJD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY.  IO1 

"Let  us  go  at  once  and  see  her,  hermana"*' 
Mary  returned ;  and  lifting  a  small  leather  bag 
from  the  step  where  she  had  placed  it  on  her 
arrival,  she  followed  the  woman. 

The  Gutierrez  family  were  members  of  the  San 
Bernabe  Church,  and  Mary  had  been  particularly 
attracted  by  the  woman's  pleasant  manner  and  the 
husband's  intelligent  face,  even  before  the  little 
girl,  Lola,  had  won  her  heart  at  school.  As  they 
entered  the  back  room,  Mary's  first  glance  saw 
that  it  was  very  small  and  dark,  and  the  closeness 
of  the  air  inside  made  her  gasp  for  an  instant. 
The  only  window  was  but  a  hole,  which  had  evi- 
dently been  dug  through  the  wall  since  the  build- 
ing of  the  house,  and  the  door  opening  into  a  kind 
of  shed  gave  little  additional  light  and  air.  A 
baby  slept  in  the  box  cradle  slung  from  the  roof, 
and  on  a  pallet  in  the  darkest  corner  lay  the  sick 
child.  The  father  sat  beside  her,  straining  his 
eyes  over  a  small  volume  which  he  held  in  his 
hand,  and  which  Mary  recognized  as  the  New 
Testament.  A  box  and  a  rude  bed  of  planks,  laid 
across  two  supports  like  carpenter's  "horses,"  and 
a  chair,  were  all  that  the  room  contained. 

"Maestro,"  cried  Lola's  little  shrill  voice,  "you 
have  come,  my  beautiful,  and  you  will  make  me 
well  as  you  did  Aunt  Catarina's  Samuelito  !  " 

Mary  knelt  by  the  side  of  the  sick  girl  and 
found  her  hands  burning  with  fever,  while  her 
1  Sister. 


102  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

bright  eyes  seemed  to  gleam  out  of  the  dark- 
ness. 

"She  is  very  ill,  senorita,"  said  the  father, 
sadly.  "  Is  there  anything  you  can  do  for  her  ?  " 

"  What  have  you  done  already  ?  And  how  long 
has  she  been  ill?"  asked  Miss  Summers,  with 
her  finger  upon  the  racing  pulse  in  the  small  wrist. 

"She  was  ailing  the  day  before  yesterday,  but 
not  till  yesterday,  when  I  sent  you  word  by 
Samuel,  has  she  been  like  this.  We  did  not 
know  what  to  do  for  her.  Her  tia^  made  her  a 
cup  of  hot  tea  last  night,  but  she  vomited  it 
immediately,  and  to-day  she  will  take  nothing, 
but  cries  all  the  while  for  water.  Of  course  we 
have  not  given  her  any,  and  we  have  kept  her  in 
here  so  that  the  air  would  not  strike  her,  as  you 
see." 

"Now,  Lolita,"  said  the  teacher,  turning  piti- 
fully to  the  child,  who  was  half-unconscious  again, 
"  tell  me,  little  one,  what  hurts  thee." 

"  My  head,  oh,  my  head,  maestra,  and  my  arms 
and  legs." 

"  Poor  little  one  ! "  murmured  Mary,  caress- 
ingly ;  then  she  stood  up  suddenly  and  faced  the 
parents. 

"Hermanos,"  she  said,  "do  you  wish  me  to 
treat  the  child?  And  will  you  let  me  do  with 
her  as  I  think  best  ?  " 

"Yes,   yes,"   both  answered   together;   "any- 

1  Aunt. 


OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY.  103 

thing  to  save  our  Lola's  life.  Her  brother  Juan 
went  off  just  this  way  last  year." 

Then  Mary  called  the  woman  into  the  front 
room,  which  had  two  windows,  and  was  clean  and 
airy. 

Most  Mexican  houses,  even  of  the  lower  classes, 
have  their  large  sala,  which  is  their  "drawing 
room,"  if  they  are  able  to  afford  such  an  apart- 
ment, or  it  may  contain  half  a  dozen  beds,  if  the 
family  is  large. 

Mary  laid  aside  her  hat  and  gloves,  and  going 
out  to  the  horse,  unfastened  from  the  saddle  a 
large  bundle  and  brought  it  in  with  her. 

"Now,  hermana"  she  said,  "while  Don  Juan 
and  I  arrange  the  bed  in  here,  I  want  you  to  put 
on  the  fire  the  largest  hoy  a1  you  have,  full  of 
water,  and  let  me  have  a  fresh  gown  or  chemise 
for  Lola." 

Under  her  direction  the  man  moved  the  poor 
bed  into  the  front  room,  wondering  greatly  at  the 
change  from  the  close,  dark  hole  within. 

"No,  not  that  way,"  interrupted  Mary,  as  he 
was  placing  the  bed.  "  Her  eyes  must  be  away 
from  the  light,  though  we  must  leave  the  windows 
all  open  for  the  air." 

Then  she  took  a  pair  of  clean  sheets  from  her 
bundle,  and  a  little  soft  pillow  which  had  already 
seen  service  in  other  cases  of  childish  illness  in 
San  Bernabe. 

1  Earthen  jar  for  water. 


104  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"Now  bring  her  here,  Don  Juan,"  said  Mary. 
u  We  must  stop  that  suffering  right  away." 

She  made  the  man  sit  down,  holding  the  limp 
little  form  in  his  arms,  and  after  taking  the  child's 
temperature  with  her  fever-thermometer,  she  se- 
lected a  pair  of  sharp  scissors  from  her  bag  and 
swiftly  cut  the  long  black  hair  from  the  fevered 
little  head.  Neither  father  nor  mother  said  a 
word,  though  tears  were  streaming  down  the 
cheeks  of  the  latter  as  she  stood  holding  L/ola's 
little  clean  nightdress  in  her  hands. 

"Water,  water,"  moaned  the  child. 

Mary  held  a  cup  of  cold  water  to  the  hot  lips, 
and  let  them  drain  it  to  the  last  drop. 

"  Now,  bring  me  the  warm  water,  Dona  Maria  ; 
and  Don  Juan,  you  may  lay  her  on  the  bed.  We 
will  do  the  rest  now,  and  you  can  rest  awhile,  as 
you  will  have  to  watch  her  all  night."  And  as 
he  left  the  room,  she  slipped  off  the  dress  worn 
by  the  child,  and  when  the  water  was  brought, 
began  bathing  the  poor  little  body  from  head  to 
foot,  and  over  and  over  again,  swiftly  and  skillfully. 
Then,  not  to  exhaust  her  too  much,  they  put  on  the 
fresh  nightdress,  slipped  another  dry  pad  beneath 
her,  and  laying  wet  cloths  of  cool  water  on  her 
head,  left  her  in  quiet  for  a  few  moments,  with  the 
sheet  thrown  lightly  over  her. 

Dona  Maria  tidied  up  the  room,  and  then  went 
out  to  put  more  water  on  the  fire.  A  cool  breeze 
entered  the  room,  and  the  child's  breathing  seemed 


JUANA'S  PROPHECY.  105 

to  grow  easier,  but  on  taking  her  temperature 
after  an  interval,  Mary  found  that  it  registered  the 
same  high  degree  of  fever. 

She  opened  her  bag  again,  and  took  out  a  box 
of  small,  white  powders,  and  taking  a  cup  of  water 
in  her  hand,  bade  the  mother  lift  lyola's  head  from 
the  pillow.  She  was  easily  roused,  and  opened 
her  mouth  for  the  powder  very  willingly  at  the 
sight  of  the  cup  of  water,  which  was  to  reward 
her. 

"  Now  we  will  let  her  rest,  Dona  Maria,"  said 
Mary,  smiling  into  the  anxious  face  of  the  mother. 
"  Keep  changing  the  cloths  on  her  head,  while  I 
speak  to  your  husband  outside.  In  fifteen  minutes 
there  should  be  a  free  perspiration,  and  if  I  find 
her  temperature  lowered,  Lola  must  have  a  little 
milk.  Have  you  any  ? ' ' 

"  No,  senorita  ;  but  Juan  will  go  to  his  sister's, 
near  by,  and  she  will  give  it  to  him  fresh  from  the 
cow.  She  loves  lyolita  like  a  little  daughter." 

All  came  to  pass  as  Mary  had  hoped.  At  the 
end  of  twenty  minutes  the  little  aching  body  was 
moist,  and  I/)la  was  sleeping  quietly,  with  all  the 
restless  twitching  and  moaning  gone,  for  the 
present. 

Mary  gave  explicit  directions  as  to  the  nourish- 
ment to  be  given  when  the  little  girl  should  waken, 
and  left  a  powder  to  be  given  if  the  fever  and  rest- 
lessness should  return  during  the  night,  and  then 
she  found  that  it  was  growing  dusk,  and  that  she 


I06  A   MEXICAN  RANCH. 

would  have  barely  time  to  race  from  one  ranch  to 
the  other  before  night. 

"  Send  me  word  by  Samuel  to-morrow  when  he 
comes  to  school,  and  let  me  know  how  you  passed 
the  night,"  she  said,  as  she  shook  hands  with  the 
grateful  parents,  who  were  smiling  again  now. 
"I  shall  come  again  to-morrow  afternoon,"  she 
called,  as  she  turned  the  pony's  head  in  the  direc- 
tion of  San  Bernabe'. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  STORM  ON  THE  PRAIRIE. 

The  Lord  hath  his  way  in  the  whirlwind  and  in  the  storm,  and  the 
clouds  are  the  dust  of  his  feet.  —  Nahum  I  :  3. 


pony  was  swift,  and  although  the  cloud 
-!•  which  had  hung  about  the  horizon  was  rising 
now  and  spreading  over  the  whole  western  sky, 
Mary  thought  that  she  would  have  time  to  reach 
San  Bernabe  before  the  storm  could  travel  across 
the  space  between  the  cloud  and  herself.  When 
she  left  Gutierrez'  house,  there  was  a  strange  hush 
over  the  prairie,  and  the  air  was  as  hot  as  the 
breath  of  a  furnace  ;  when  she  left  the  path  and 
turned  into  the  high  road,  she  suddenly  felt  a 
strange  difficulty  in  breathing,  and  soon,  eyes,  nose, 
and  mouth  were  filled  with  sand,  and  the  pony 
and  rider  were  blown  quite  out  of  the  road  by  the 
strong,  swift  gust  of  wind  which  had  brought  the 
sand.  The  little  pony  instinctively  turned  her 
back  upon  the  wind  and  planted  her  feet  wide 
apart  upon  the  short,  dry  tufts  of  prairie  grass  and 
waited  calmly  until  the  first  fury  of  the  gust  had 
passed.  Mary's  face  tingled  and  smarted,  and 
she  and  the  pony  coughed  sympathetically  from 
throats  clogged  with  the  pelting  particles  of  sand. 

107 


108  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

Then,  when  the  wind  had  subsided  for  a  second, 
she  started  at  full  gallop  along  the  three-mile  road 
leading  to  the  ranch.  The  cloud  now  seemed  to 
cover  the  whole  heavens,  and  it  grew  perfectly 
dark,  while  the  wind  blew  in  an  ever-increasing 
gale,  and  the  air  was  filled  with  the  penetrating 
sand. 

Mary  urged  on  her  little  steed,  encouraging  her 
by  shouting  terms  of  endearment  into  her  ear, 
while  the  storm  roared  about  them  ;  but  she  was 
soon  aware  that  they  had  left  the  road.  She 
dropped  the  reins  then  upon  the  pony's  neck,  and 
lifting  her  face  to  the  black  sky  in  silent  prayer, 
ceased  trying  to  direct  the  pony,  and  occupied 
herself  in  peering  with  straining  eyes  in  all  direc- 
tions for  the  lights  of  the  village.  She  knew  that 
the  pony  would  keep  as  near  the  road  as  the 
strength  of  the  gale  would  allow  ;  but  the  brave 
little  beast  could  make  small  headway  with  the 
wind  striking  her  full  on  the  right  side,  and  only 
pausing  as  if  to  recover  fresh  strength  for  the  next 
broadside. 

They  had  proceeded  in  this  fashion  for  perhaps 
half  an  hour,  and  utter  blackness  of  darkness  still 
stretched  before  and  behind,  and  Mary  had  lost 
all  idea  of  the  direction  in  which  San  Bernabe'  lay, 
when  suddenly  the  pony  pricked  up  her  ears  and 
gave  a  short,  low  whinny  of  delight.  At  the  same 
time,  Mary  heard  the  sound  of  hoofs  striking 
quickly  and  sharply  against  the  loose  rocks  with 


THE  STORM   ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  109 

which  the  whole  plain  was  strewn,  and  soon  a 
voice  hailed  her  from  behind.  She  answered  as 
loud  as  she  was  able,  but  her  throat  and  lips  were 
so  dry  that  only  a  slight  sound  escaped  them,  and 
a  plunging  horse,  coming  up  from  behind,  was 
passing  them  in  the  thick  darkness  and  only  a 
few  feet  away,  when  the  pony  neighed  again. 

"  Holy  Virgin ! "  cried  the  voice  of  Captain 
Daniel.;  "  to  think  that  we  were  side  by  side  and 
that  I  was  passing  you  in  the  dark  !  Why  did  you 
not  call?" 

"  I  did  call  as  loud  as  I  could,"  shouted  Mary; 
"  but  the  wind  carried  my  voice  away.  Oh,  where 
are  we,  captain,  and  how  shall  I  ever  reach  home 
when  I  do  not  know  whether  the  ranch  is  before 
or  behind  me?  " 

"  You  are  riding  away  from  it  as  hard  as  you 
can,  senorita,"  replied  Daniel,  wheeling  his  horse 
around  and  feeling  for  the  reins  which  lay  on  the 
pony's  neck,  and  throwing  them  over  his  arm  and 
shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice  as  he  answered 
her.  "  This  little  monkey  knew  that  El  Porvenir 
was  nearer  than  San  Bernabe",  and  so  when  the 
wind  twisted  her  around  she  did  not  take  the 
trouble  to  turn  again,  but  was  making  for  the 
first  shelter  she  could  find.  Come  now,  and  hold 
on  with  all  your  strength,  for  Black  Jane  is 
stronger  than  the  wind,  and  will  carry  us  all  to 
shelter  in  a  few  moments.  Do  not  be  afraid,  little 
one,"  he  added,  leaning  over  close  to  Mary's  ear, 


HO  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

as  she  gave  a  startled  cry  when  Black  Jane  darted 
forward  again.  "  Do  you  think  that  I  have  come 
out  to  find  you,  all  this  way  from  home,  to  let 
aught  harm  you  now,  little  friend  of  my  heart?" 

She  was  silent,  and  for  more  reasons  than  one, 
for  it  required  all  the  strength  of  her  strong, 
young  hands  clutching  the  pony's  mane  to  keep 
her  place  on  her  back,  as  she  galloped  swiftly, 
close  to  the  big  horse  at  her  side.  There  was  per- 
fect silence  as  they  tore  across  the  plain  toward 
what  Mary  hoped  was  San  Bernabe",  although  she 
could  not  see  a  foot  beyond  the  pony's  nose. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Daniel,  in  a  surprised  tone, 
11  where  are  we,  indeed  ?  "  as  after  fifteen  minutes 
his  horse  stopped  so  suddenly  as  to  almost  dislodge 
his  rider  from  the  saddle.  "  The  chapel !  Well, 
it  is  best.  She  could  have  stayed  on  but  a  moment 
longer.  Mother  of  God  !  is  she  dead  already  ?  " 
But  Mary  opened  her  eyes,  as  she  felt  herself  lifted 
from  the  panting  pony  and  carried,  she  knew  not 
whither. 

."Rest  there  a  moment,  senorita,"  said  Daniel, 
placing  her  on  the  ground  in  the  darkness,  and 
she  suddenly  felt  a  great  calm  around  her,  though 
the  storm  raged  on  beyond  and  above  where  she 
sat  leaning  against  a  rough  wall. 

'  There,"  said  Daniel,  again  close  at  her  side, 
"  I  have  put  the  horses  on  the  sheltered  side  of 
the  building,  and  they  will  wait  for  us  there  until 
the  storm  passes." 


THE  STORM  ON  THE)  PRAIRIE.  Ill 

"  But,  where  are  we,  Captain  Daniel  ? "  asked 
Mary,  piteously.  "It  is  so  dark  that  I  can  see 
nothing." 

"This  is  the  chapel,  seiiorita,  which  we  are 
building  in  so  much  haste  for  the  coming  of  Padre 
Esteban,"  Daniel  replied,  sarcastically.  "And 
only  the  miraculous  help  of  the  Virgin  Mary  can 
get  this  place  ready  for  his  reverence  when  he 
comes  on  his  annual  rounds  a  few  weeks  from 
now." 

Mary  recollected  the  half-finished  walls  of  the 
Catholic  chapel,  which  stood  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  ranch,  adjoining  the  little  walled-in  burying 
ground,  and  realized  that  they  were  but  a  five 
minutes'  ride  from  Don  Bduardo's  house. 

"  But  why  stop  here,  sir,  when  so  near  home?  " 
she  asked,  rising  to  her  feet,  and  groping  her  way 
toward  the  doorway  which  showed  dimly  now, 
though  the  storm  gave  no  signs  of  abating. 

"  Black  Jane  brought  us  here,  senorita.  And 
you  would  have  fallen  from  your  horse  at  the  next 
step.  Do  you  know  that  you  had  already  let  go 
your  hold,  and  your  eyes  were  closed  when  I 
lifted  you  from  the  saddle  ?  Stay,  nothing  shall 
harm  you.  See,  I  shall  make  a  light."  And  he 
struck  a  match,  and  standing  in  a  corner  carefully 
lighted  a  wax  taper  which  he  carried  in  his 
pocket.  This  he  stuck  in  a  crevice  in  the  rough 
wall,  and  then  he  and  Mary  turned  and  looked 
into  each  other's  eyes.  The  flickering,  feeble 


112  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

light  showed  two  figures  in  costume  rather  the 
worse  for  the  struggle  with  the  storm,  and  Mary 
laughed  merrily  when  she  saw  the  captain's  dis- 
may as  he  realized  his  appearance.  The  spotless 
dark  blue  of  his  uniform  of  the  morning  was 
changed  into  a  dirty  gray,  while  collar,  cuffs, 
hands,  and  face  were  grimy  with  perspiration  and 
the  sticky  sand.  He  made  a  movement  toward 
the  light  as  if  to  extinguish  it,  and  thus  destroy 
the  annihilating  effect  of  his  dishevelled  array, 
but  his  companion  quickly  intercepted  him. 

"  See,"  she  exclaimed,  laughing,  "  I  am  in  the 
same  plight,  and  have  lost  my  hat  too.  Oh,  what 
a  dreadful  ride  !  "  And  she  hastily  began  gather- 
ing up  the  heavy  masses  of  her  golden  hair,  from 
which  she  had  lost  every  hairpin  in  that  mad  gal- 
lop. Daniel  forgot  himself  and  his  dismal  plight 
as  he  looked  into  the  beautiful  flushed  face  before 
him. 

"  But  do  you  think  we  are  quite  safe  here  ?  " 
she  continued.  "  I  have  heard  it  said  that  these 
walls  are  weak,  and  will  not  bear  the  winter  rains 
and  wind.  There ! "  she  continued,  growing 
white,  as  a  rattling  fall  of  rocks  and  dirt  sounded 
not  far  from  them;  "did  you  hear  that?  Let 
us  go.  The  prairie  is  better  than  this." 

"No,  senorita,"  replied  Daniel;  "here  we  are 
safe.  This  is  the  tower,  and  it  is  of  stone,  while 
the  other  walls  are  of  adobe.  And  listen  !  There 
is  hail  now.  Soon  the  tempest  will  be  over  and 


THE  STORM  ON-  THE  PRAIRIE.  113 

we  can  get  to  the  house.  What  is  it,  senorita ;  are 
you  frightened  ?  No  ?  Then  you  are  cold.  And 
it  is  growing  cold,  very  cold,  with  this  wind  and 
hail.  Valgame  dios?  how  this  sand  gets  into  one's 
teeth  and  throat !  " 

Mary  stood  in  the  doorway,  which  was  on  the 
sheltered  side  of  the  little  tower  room,  and  looked 
out  upon  the  ground,  which  was  growing  white 
with  the  pelting  hail.  She  shivered  again,  and 
longed  for  the  shelter  of  her  little  room  and  the 
comforting  presence  of  Refugio,  or  of  the  good 
Petra,  or  Jose.  Then,  for  the  first  time  she  recol- 
lected the  picnic  party,  and  turning  to  Daniel,  who 
stood  at  her  side  now,  also  looking  out  into  the 
wild  darkness  beyond  their  refuge,  she  asked : 

"But  how  is  it,  Captain  Daniel,  that  you  met 
me  on  the  road,  when  it  was  yet  too  early  for  the 
party  to  return?  I  thought  you  were  to  come 
home  late  by  moonlight, — and  where  can  they 
be  ?  Refugio  mia,  where  can  she  be  in  all  this 
storm,  and  the  others? 

"Do  not  distress  yourself,  senorita,"  her  com- 
panion replied;  "they  are  already  at  home,  and 
it  will  be  Refugio  and  Petra  and  '  the  others '  who 
are  crazy  about  your  whereabouts.  Oh,  it  is 
easily  seen  that  you  are  no  rancher  a*  or  you 
would  have  known  better  than  to  go  so  far  from 
home,  with  that  kind  of  a  cloud  in  the  west.  We 
saw  it  just  after  dinner  was  over,  and  lost  no  time 

1  God  bless  me  !  2  Country  woman  or  peasant. 

H 


H4  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

in  packing  up  and  coming  home,  and  we  arrived 
just  as  the  first  gust  struck  us.  Jose  was  busy  get- 
ting the  animals  under  shelter,  and  so  he  did  not 
hear  that  you  were  away,  and  I  told  no  one  that  I 
was  coming  after  you,  because — well,  it  does  not 
matter  why.  Old  Juana  was  muttering  something 
about  'la  Mariquita  blanca"  and  the  tempest, 
and  was  grinning  like  the  old  she-devil  that  she 
is,  so  I  only  asked  her  whither  you  were  gone  and 
hurried  after  you." 

"  And  I  do  not  know  how  to  thank  you,  Captain 
Daniel,  for  you  have  perhaps  saved  rny  life.  And 
what  a  miracle  that  you  found  me,  in  that  pitchy 
darkness.  You  would  never  have  heard  my  voice 
in  all  the  noise,  if  the  pony  had  not  neighed." 

"  And  now,  instead  of  the  music  and  dancing  in 
my  grandfather's  sala,  they  are  all  sad  and  won- 
dering what  has  become  of  us,  of  you  and  me,  little 
dear  one,"  added  the  captain,  moving  a  little 
closer  to  her. 

"Excuse  me,  senor  capitan"  returned  Mary, 
drawing  herself  up  to  her  full  height,  and  looking 
down  into  the  little  soldier's  face.  "  You  have 
perhaps  saved  my  life  to-night,  and  I  have  thanked 
you,  but  I  cannot  permit  you  to  speak  thus  to  me. 
Understand  me,  if  you  please  ;  and  now,  I  am 
sure  we  can  go  on  to  the  house.  I  arn  not  afraid 
of  getting  wet,  and  it  is  only  raining.  Come,  I  am 
going,"  she  added,  decidedly,  stepping  out  of  the 

1  The  little  white  Mary. 


THE  STORM   ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  115 

tower  and  looking  up  to  the  sky,  which  was  still 
very  black. 

The  wind  and  hail  were  over,  however, 
and  the  captain  followed  the  young  woman  to 
where  the  horses  were  neighing  in  an  angle  be- 
tween the  tower  and  an  adjoining  wall.  He 
ground  his  teeth  at  this  unexpected,  ending  of 
such  a  romantic  situation,  and  in  sullen  silence 
helped  Mary  to  mount  her  pony. 

A  loud  barking  of  dogs  and  a  confused  babel 
of  tongues  greeted  them  as  they  rode  through  the 
gates  which  had  been  left  wide  open  since  the 
return  of  the  picnic  party.  Petra  and  Refugio 
were  at  Mary's  side  in  a  moment  as  she  rode  to 
her  own  door,  and  the  trio,  joined  by  Raquel  and 
most  of  the  other  women,  vanished  within  and 
Mary,  at  least,  was  seen  no  more  that  night. 

Jose  followed  Daniel  to  his  room,  whither  he 
hurried  to  change  his  dusty  and  damp  clothing, 
and  shut  the  door. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  Jose,  briefly,  as  Daniel  began  to 
disrobe. 

"Well,"  replied  Daniel,  as  briefly. 

"  Where  didst  thou  find  her?  " 

"Traveling  away  from  San  Bernabe"  as  fast  as 
she  could  in  the  dark." 

"  And  thou  broughtest  her  back?" 

"And  I  brought  her  back." 

After  a  pause,  while  Daniel  sat  half-dressed  on 
the  edge  of  his  bed,  Jose  said  : 


Il6  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"  Thou  art  tired,  old  fellow.  Come  in  to  supper  ; 
they  have  kept  it  hot  for  thee." 

"  I  want  no  supper,  leave  me  here.  I  shall  go 
to  bed,"  dejectedly. 

"  But  the  dancing  and — and  our  little  cousin. 
She  will  be  disappointed,  I  can  tell  thee  ;  she  has 
watched  anxiously  for  thy  coming.  Coine,  I  shall 
not  leave  thee  here." 

Thus  adjured,  Daniel  easily  persuaded  himself 
that  his  presence  was  necessary  to  the  enjoyment 
of  the  festivities  of  the  evening,  and  he  soon 
issued  from  his  room  freshly  attired  and  with  but 
the  suspicion  of  a  cloud  resting  upon  his  coun- 
tenance. He  noticed  as  he  crossed  the  court  that 
the  sky  was  clearing  also,  and  that  the  moon  was 
shining  through  the  rifts  in  the  clouds. 

It  was  Jose"  who  remained  in  his  room  that 
evening,  but  as  he  seldom  danced,  few  noted  his 
absence  from  the  sala.  The  "  little  cousin  "  in- 
deed pouted  as  she  flew  around  the  room,  but 
the  captain  was  far  from  guessing  the  reason  of 
that  rosy  pouting  and  easily  forgot  to  ask  it,  while 
the  merry  black  eyes  sparkled  and  flashed  upon 
him  and  the  warm  little  hands  trembled  within 
his  own. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

LOLA'S  QUESTION. 


Wherever  souls  are  being  tried  and  ripened,  in  whatever  common 
place  and  homely  ways  —  there  God  is  hewing  out  the  pillars  of  his 
temple.  —  Phillips  Brooks. 

THE  sun  appeared  the  next  morning  in  a 
bright,  cloudless  sky,  and  on  the  treeless 
prairie  no  trace  was  left  of  the  storm  of  the  night 
before.  Men  and  women  went  about  the  ranch 
muffled  in  blankets  and  shawls,  for  it  was  bitter 
cold,  and  noses  and  ears  were  nipped  by  the  biting 
air  until  they  were  blue  and  numb. 

Mary  waked  with  extra  bed-covering  tucked 
closely  about  her  head  and  shoulders.  At  the 
first  sound  she  made,  Refugio  entered,  bringing 
fresh  water  from  the  well  and  a  bright  morning 
greeting  upon  her  rosy  face. 

"Why,  Refugio,"  exclaimed  Mary,  with  her 
teeth  chattering,  "what  does  this  mean?  Has 
winter  come  at  last?  And  who  covered  ine  so 
warmly  with  the  blankets  ?  " 

"  It  was  I,  senorita,"  replied  Refugio,  showing 
her  milk-white  teeth  in  a  brilliant  smile.  "  You 
slept  so  soundly.  '  ' 

"  Cuca  is  really  beautiful,"  thought  Mary, 

117 


Il8  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

watching  the  girl's  radiant  face  as  she  prepared 
the  bath. 

"Yes,"  continued  the  girl,  "winter  is  now  here 
and  it  is  very  cold  this  morning,  but  so  clear  and 
beautiful.  After  a  while  the  sun  will  warm  the 
air,  and  by  noon  it  will  be  almost  warm  again, 
but  there  will  be  no  more  hot  days  and  nights 
now.  This  is  the  best  time  of  the  whole  year,  I 
think,  for  later  the  rains  will  come  and  then  you 
may  well  say,  '  It  is  cold,'  valgame  Dios !  " 

"Refugio,"  said  Mary,  gravely,  "have  you 
forgotten,  and  are  you  never  going  to  learn  that 
it  is  wrong  to  use  that  expression?  " 

"  Senorita,  pardon  me,"  replied  the  girl,  peni- 
tently. "  It  is  so  hard  to  stop  saying  what  one 
always  says  without  thinking." 

''That  is  one  reason  why  you  should  not  say  it, 
child.  If  you  were  really  thinking  of  God  and 
speaking  to  him  it  would  be  different.  As  you 
are  not,  it  is  sinful,  for  we  are  told  not  to  take  his 
name  in  va:n." 

"  I  shall  try  to  remember  better,  indeed  I  shall, 
sefiorita.  But  surely  you  are  not  going  to  take 
your  bath  cold  this  morning.  I  put  the  kettle  on 
the  stove  and  the  water  is  hot  by  now.  Ugh  !  " 
she  shivered  as  Mary  plunged  her  fair,  round  arms 
into  the  fresh  water. 

"  No  warm  water  for  me,  thank  you,"  declared 
Mary.  '« Now  go,  if  you  have  had  your  breakfast, 
Cuca,  and  open  the  schoolroom  doors  wide,  so 


LITTLE  LOLA'S  QUESTION.  1 19 

that  we  may  have  fresh  air  in  plenty  to-day.  I 
feel  as  if  I  could  fly,"  she  continued  to  herself,  as 
Refugio  closed  the  door,  ' '  and  as  if  a  breath  of 
the  dear  home  winter  had  come  to  me.  I  can  go 
to  see  L,ola  to-day  at  noon,  without  waiting  for  the 
afternoon,  with  who  knows  what  kind  of  wild  ex- 
periences, wind  and  black  horses,  and  towers  and 
captains,  and  all  that  kind  of  thing.  Heigh-ho ! 
I  will  play  that  was  all  a  dream  of  last  night." 

"Ay,  Ay/"1  sighed  Refugio  to  herself,  after 
leaving  her  teacher  alone,  "  if  it  is  cold  water  that 
does  it,  that  gives  my  Mariquita  such  soft,  white 
skin,  I  would  even  like  to  try  it  myself.  But  I 
suppose  it  is  too  late  now,"  she  added,  ruefully, 
rolling  up  her  sleeve  and  passing  her  brown  hand 
over  her  smooth,  rounded  arm. 

She  was  nearing  the  schoolhouse  door  as  she 
spoke  half  aloud,  and  was  surprised  to  find  it 
already  open.  Jose,  seated  at  the  organ,  was  turn- 
ing over  the  leaves  of  a  music  book  containing  a 
number  of  simple  chants  and  melodies.  He 
nodded,  smilingly,  to  Refugio  as  she  entered,  and 
began  playing  while  she  went  softly  about  the 
room  gathering  up  bits  of  paper  and  arranging 
books  and  seats  for  the  little  scholars  who  were  to 
come  later.  Jose",  in  the  midst  of  his  laborious 
spelling  out  of  the  notes,  looked  up  once  and  found 
Refugio  standing  at  his  side  with  puzzled  eyes. 
He  stopped  playing  and  asked  her  of  what  she 

1  Exclamation  of  pain  or  grief. 


120  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

was  thinking,  and  then  he,  like  Mary,  noted  with 
surprise  the  rich  beauty  of  the  girl  of  whom  he 
had  never  taken  especial  notice  before. 

"  Don  Jose,  perhaps  you  can  tell  me  what  is  the 
difference  between  the  Americanos  and  ourselves  : 
that  is,  why  is  my  scnorita  so  sweet  and  fair  to 
look  at,  and  we — and  I  so  ugly  and  brown  ?  Is  it, 
do  you  think,  the  soap  and  water  that  makes  the 
difference?  Of  course  I  use  them  also,"  she 
added,  hastily.  "The  senorita  has  taught  me 
that  to  be  healthy  one  must  be  clean  ;  but  she  is 
like  a  duck  for  water  !  " 

"Of  course,  child,"  replied  Jose",  "  you  must  have 
sense  enough  to  know  that  no  washing  can  ever 
change  the  color  of  any  one's  skin.  I  do  not  know 
very  much,  myself,  about  the  cause  of  the  differ- 
ence in  the  color  of  different  nations,  but  I  know 
that  we  get  our  dark  skin  partly  from  our  Indian 
ancestors  and  partly  from  the  hot  sun  of  this  cli- 
mate. All  nations  living  in  the  countries  where 
the  sun  is  hottest  have  dark-colored  skins  and 
dark  hair  and  eyes,  while  those  of  colder  climates 
have  white  skin,  and  blue  eyes,  and  fair  hair.  I 
cannot  tell  you  why,  but  all  the  soap  and  water  in 
Mexico  will  not  make  you  or  me  white." 

"But  you  are  almost  fair,  Don  Jose","  said 
Refugio.  "Almost  as  fair  as  the  gringo*  who 
stopped  in  our  village  and  told  me  about  my  sweet 
angel  Maria." 

1  Foreigner. 


LITTLE  LOLA'S  QUESTION.  121 

"Go  on  with  your  work,  child,  "  replied  Jose", 
closing  the  book  and  organ.  "  It  is  almost  school 
time,  and  here  come  the  children  already.  And 
mind,  do  not  chatter  so  much  about  dark  skin  and 
white.  Remember  that  you  are  a  Mexican,  and 
as  God  made  you.  Only  keep  your  heart  clean, 
and " 

"That  is  good  advice,  Jose", "  interrupted  Miss 
Summers'  voice  at  the  open  door,  and  a  red  flush 
dyed  the  young  man's  whole  face  and  neck,  as 
she  entered,  fresh  and  rosy  from  her  brisk  run 
to  the  schoolhouse.  Her  blue  flannel  dress  and 
blue  riding  cap  looked  comfortable  and  suitable 
for  such  a  wintry  morning,  and.Refugio  clasped 
her  hands  in  delight  at  the  sight  of  the  long  plait 
of  hair  which  reached  below  her  teacher's  waist. 

"That  is  all  that  we  need  to  care  much  about 
in  this  world,  isn't  it,  Jose",  clean  hands  and  pure 
hearts?  And  a  fresh,  clean  morning  like  this 
makes  one  feel  like  beginning  all  over  again  to 
make  one's  life  as  pure  and  fair,  does  it  not? 
Will  you  tell  some  one,  please,  to  saddle  Blanquilla 
and  have  her  ready  for  me,  here  at  the  door,  at 
twelve  o'clock?"  she  continued,  as  Jose"  stepped 
past  the  little  children  who  were  gathering  about 
the  door. 

"Certainly,  sefiorita,"  he  answered.  "And  I 
hope  you  are  well  after  last  night's  wetting.  It 
did  you  no  harm  ?  " 

"Not  the  least,"  she  replied,  smiling  ;  "but  I 


122  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

have  learned  a  lesson  that  I  shall  not  soon  forget, 
— to  beware  of  threatening  black  clouds  in  the 
west  after  thn.  Ah!  here  is  Samuel.  Corne, 
child,  and  tell  me  the  news  of  Lolita.  What  mes- 
sage did  her  father  send  me  ?  " 

Mary  hung  her  cap  on  a  nail  and  sitting,  drew 
toward  her  a  curly-haired  boy  of  ten  years,  who 
was  eagerly  waiting  to  deliver  his  news. 

"Lolita  is  better,  sefiorita,"  he  replied,  "and 
my  /a?1  Juan  told  me  to  say  to  you  that  she  is  cool 
this  morning  and  that  she  slept  well  last  night 
She  drank  a  little  drop  of  milk  too  this  morning, 
that  I  carried  her  in  my  china  cup  but,  senorita, 
she  could  not  speak  to  me,  she  was  so  weak,  and 
her  eyes  did  not  look  like  Lola's  eyes." 

"I  shall  go  with  you,  dear,  at  dinner  time  to  see 
Lola,  and  you  shall  ride  behind  me  on  the  pony. 
Come  now,  queridos*  it  is  school  time.  Ring  the 
bell,  Juan  !  " 

Mary's  heart  swelled  with  thankfulness  and 
love  as  her  children  gathered  about  her,  and  a 
prayer  was  in  her  heart  all  the  morning  : 

"Father,  give  me  these  little  ones  to  train  for 
thee,  until  they  are  able  to  walk  in  thy  way  alone 
and  able  to  teach  others  the  way.  Let  them  be  a 
part  of  my  offering  to  thee  when  my  life  is  over, 
and  let  not  one  be  lost ! " 

Three  hours  later  sturdy  little  Blanquilla  easily 
carried  her  double  load  along  the  road  from  which 

1  Uncle.  *  Dear  ones. 


UTTLE  LOLA'S  QUESTION.  123 

she  had  been  so  unceremoniously  turned  the  night 
before  by  the  wind,  and  Samuel  never  forgot  his 
gallop  behind  the  maestra,  on  the  pony's  back. 

Lola  was  better,  but  looked  faint  and  hollow- 
eyed  when  Mary  approached  her  bed.  Her  mother 
was  coaxing  her  to  take  a  spoonful  of  watery- 
looking  broth  when  Mary  arrived,  and  was  glad 
to  give  up  her  post  to  the  young  teacher,  as  Lola 
refused  to  open  her  pale  lips. 

"What  would  you  like,  Lolita?"  asked  Mary, 
smoothing  gently  the  shorn  black  locks  of  the 
little  girl,  "What  can  you  take,  little  one?  " 

"  Not  the  soup,  sefiorita.     I  cannot  bear  it." 

"  And  she  will  not  take  the  milk  either,  sefior- 
ita," complained  the  mother. 

"It  does  not  taste  good,  and  I  do  not  like  it," 
wailed  the  little  girl. 

Mary  thought  a  moment  and  then  left  the  room. 
She  took  a  bottle  of  "beef  juice"  from  her  bag, 
and  a  small  package  of  crackers,  and  going  into 
the  kitchen  found  a  pot  of  hot  water  on  the  fire. 
She  prepared  and  daintily  seasoned  a  small  cup 
of  broth  from  the  beef  extract  and  hot  water,  and 
crumbling  a  cracker  into  it,  carried  it  to  Lola. 
The  taste  of  the  savory  broth  pleased  the  child's 
fancy  and  she  took  the  whole  cupful,  fed  by  her 
loved  teacher's  hand. 

' '  And  now,  little  one,  you  will  feel  better,  I 
think,"  said  Mary,  as  the  child  smiled  back  at 
her.  "  And  when  mother  brings  you  a  little  cool 


124  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

milk  and  a  cracker  after  a  while,  you  will  take  it 
like  a  good  child,  will  you  not,  dear?  " 

"Yes,  senorita,  I  shall  not  be  naughty  any 
more,  now.  And  shall  I  soon  be  well  enough  to 
go  to  school  again  ?  All  the  girls  will  have  learned 
so  many  more  verses  than  I  have.  Why  do  you 
think  God  made  me  sick,  maestra?" 

"That  is  just  what  I  was  asking  myself  and  him 
too,  last  night"  chimed  in  Juan,  the  father,  who 
had  come  in  from  work  and  was  standing  looking 
down  upon  his  child.  "  I  sat  there  all  night  long, 
because  my  wife  had  to  keep  the  baby  in  the 
other  room,  as  his  fretting  disturbed  Lolita. 
And  I  could  not  help  asking  why  God  was  giving 
so  much  pain  to  our  innocent  little  one.  I  can 
understand,  senorita,  why  he  should  give  us  grown- 
up ones  pain  and  sorrow  of  all  kinds,  for  surely 
we  deserve  more  of  both  than  we  get — but  that 
baby  there,  what  has  she  done  ?  " 

"Do  you  think,  Juan,  that  a  wise  God,  who  is 
ruler  of  the  world  he  has  made  as  well  as  Father 
of  his  creatures,  lets  his  world  go  on  and  on,  and 
grow  and  improve,  without  some  wise  laws  for 
governing  it  ?  We  think  a  great  deal  of  his  laws 
for  the  good  of  our  souls,  and  we  know  that  if  we 
break  one  of  these  laws  and  sin,  we  shall  suffer  in 
some  way,  from  remorse  in  ourselves,  if  from  no 
other  punishment.  Well,  he  has  made  '  natural 
laws,'  also,  that  is,  laws  that  control  nature  and 
the  life  and  health  of  our  bodies.  Now,  if  we 


LITTLE   LOLA'S  QUESTION.  125 

should  leave  Lola  to  herself  for  two  or  three  days, 
and  should  give  her  nothing  to  eat  or  drink,  what 
would  happen?" 

"  She  would  die,  pobrecita"  replied  the  father. 

"Yes,  surely,  and  why?  From  any  sin  of  her 
heart?" 

"  No,  indeed  ;  only  because  we  should  have  been 
careless  and  neglected  her." 

"  Rather,  because  the  life  of  her  body  depends 
upon  the  nourishment  it  receives,  as  life  cannot  go 
on  without  proper  support.  You  may  fix  that  as 
one  of  God's  natural  laws,  Juan.  Often  we  cannot 
know  just  what  we  have  done,  or  what  others  may 
have  done,  to  cause  distress  or  disease  of  the  body, 
but  we  must  know  that  some  law  has  been  vio- 
lated, sometime,  somehow ;  and  God,  as  a  wise 
ruler,  permits  the  result.  Now,  perhaps  Lola 
was  exposed  to  the  sun  during  one  of  those  hot 
days  last  week,  and  perhaps  she  had  headache  for 
several  days.  Still  she  begged  to  go  to  school, 
and  you  could  not  refuse  her,  even  though  I  sent 
you  word  that  she  seemed  feverish  and  had  better 
be  kept  at  home.  She  craved  cool  drinks  and 
later  fresh  air.  You  denied  them  because  you 
thought  that  they  would  be  dangerous.  You 
simply  did  not  know,  you  see,  although  you  did 
your  best." 

' '  Then  ignorance  is  one  of  the  causes  of  sick- 
ness and  death.     Do  you  mean  that,  senorita  ?  " 

"  Ignorance  of  certain  laws  and  truths  concern- 


126  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

ing  our  bodily  needs,  yes  ;  just  as  much  as  smd 
sin  is,  my  friend." 

"  But  it  is  very  sad  that  our  children  must  suffer 
from  simple  ignorance,  senorita,"  remarked  the 
mother,  who  sat  on  the  floor  nursing  her  baby. 
Lola  had  dropped  asleep  now  with  her  question 
unanswered  and  forgotten. 

' '  Yes,  and  that  we  must  bear  the  penalty  of  the 
ignorance  and  mistakes  of  others,"  Mary  assented. 

"What  is  to  be  done  about  it,  I  cannot  see," 
sighed  Juan.  ' '  Now  we,  wife  and  I,  since  we 
have  known  you  and  have  heard  you  talk,  have 
tried  to  live  differently.  We  are  poor,  but  you 
taught  us  that  we  could  be  clean  as  long  as  there 
was  water  to  be  had.  Yet,  being  clean  is  not  all, 
even  if  poor  working  folks  could  always  keep 
clean.  We  are  ignorant  of  all  those  laws  that  you 
have  been  telling  us  about,  and  how  can  we  keep 
rules  that  we  do  not  know  and  have  never  heard 
of?" 

"  True,  Juan,  you  cannot ;  and  you  are  only  one 
of  the  many  sufferers  from  the  neglect  of  those 
who  do  know.  But  there  is  much  that  you  can 
learn  since  you  can  read.  There  is  a  little  book 
on  '  Health  and  how  to  keep  it,'  that  is  being 
translated  into  Spanish  now  by  a  friend  of  mine, 
who  is  as  much  interested  as  I  am  in  the  needs  of 
people  just  like  you,  and  she  is  writing  and  trans- 
lating, while  I  am  trying  to  do  what  I  can." 

"And  bless  your  heart  for  it,"  interrupted  the 


LITTLE   LOLA'S  QUESTION.  127 

woman,  her  eyes  resting  gratefully  upon  her  sleep- 
ing child. 

"  Perhaps  I  can  help  you  by  repeating  some- 
thing of  what  I  have  already  tried  to  tell  you  be- 
fore. A  clean  body,  fed  three  times  a  day,  with 
simple,  well-cooked  food,  and  rested  by  eight  or 
nine  hours  of  quiet  sleep  out  of  the  twenty-four, 
ought  to  be  a  healthy  body,  strong  enough  to  work 
ten  or  twelve  hours  without  fatigue,  if  there  is  no 
disease.  Life  should  be  regular,  happy,  full  of 
love  and  charity.  I  believe  men's  souls  would  be 
better  if  their  bodies  were  kept  in  better  repair. " 

"  Speaking  of  disease,  sefiorita,  have  you  ever 
seen  the  poor  little  idiot  grandchild  of  old  Dona 
Juana's  at  your  ranch?  You  know  his  body  is 
covered  with  sores,  and  he  smells  so  badly  that  no 
one  can  stay  near  him." 

"  Yes,  I  have  seen  him,  and  have  in  vain  begged 
the  grandmother  to 'let  me  try  to  cure  him.  The 
whole  disease  comes  from  dirt,  and  the  child  will 
perish  miserably  before  very  long.  As  soon  as  I 
mentioned  soap  and  water  she  utterly  refused  to 
let  me  touch  him.  Of  course  I  do  not  mean  to 
say  that  dirt  causes  all  the  dreadful  diseases  that 
we  have  in  Mexico.  It  is  only  among  the  most 
ignorant  and  those  who  live  like  the  brutes,  who 
do  not  wash  at  all.  We  need  more  however  than 
a  hasty  washing  of  hands  and  face  once  or  twice 
a  day  ;  we  need  the  refreshing  daily  bath  to  open 
the  pores  of  the  skin,  then  deep,  strong  breathing 


128  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

in  the  fresh  air  to  swell  and  strengthen  the  lungs  ; 
we  need  to  feel  kindly  toward  our  families  and  our 
neighbors  in  order  to  be  happy,  and  above  all,  as  I 
heard  some  one  say  this  morning,  we  must  keep 
our  hearts  clean ;  for  as  the  health  of  our  bodies 
affects  our  souls,  just  so  our  bodily  health  depends 
to  a  degree  upon  the  soul.  And  now  I  must  go, 
friends  ;  I  did  not  mean  to  stay  so  long,  but  it  helps 
me  to  talk  to  those  who  are  anxious  to  learn,  and 
I  grow  stronger  too.  So  do  not  let  us  doubt  our 
Father's  love  and  care  for  us,  even  though  we  do 
suffer  and  see  the  innocent  suffer.  We  can  see 
but  a  tiny  corner  of  his  great  world,  while  we 
know  that  he  holds  the  whole  universe  in  the 
hollow  of  his  hand." 

"  Yes,  yes,  senorita  ;  and  I  can  tell  you  that  last 
night  while  I  watched  our  Lola,  lying  so  white 
and  weak  and  scarcely  breathing,  and  while  I  was 
asking  him  why  it  must  be,  I  really  could  say 
the  words  we  read  in  Sunday-school  last  Sunday, 
'  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him,'  and 
I  knew  that  even  if  he  did  think  it  best  to  take 
our  child  away  from  us,  I  would  trust  him. ' ' 

"  She  will  do  well  now,  I  think,"  said  Mary, 
rising.  "  Coax  her  to  take  a  cup  of  -milk  boiled, 
please,  hot  or  cold  as  she  likes  best,  or  a  cup  of 
the  beef-tea,  every  three  or  four  hours  when  she 
does  not  sleep.  See,  here  is  the  bottle  of  '  extract '  ; 
put  a  small  spoonful  to  a  cup  of  hot  water  with  a 
little  salt.  If  she  has  no  more  fever,  give  her  a 


LOLA'S  QUESTION.  1 29 

little  boiled  rice  to-morrow  and  the  crackers  if  she 
likes  them  Now  good-bye,  I  must  hurry  home 
for  school." 

As  she  galloped  away,  Juan  and  his  wife  stood 
in  their  doorway  gazing  after  her  until  horse  and 
rider  were  but  a  black  speck  on  the  wide,  white 
prairie. 

"  Bless  her  !  "  exclaimed  the  woman.  "  If  she 
is  not  an  angel,  may  I  never  see  one  on  earth  or 
in  heaven." 

"Angel?  Yes,  and  dost  thou  know  what  the 
word  means,  wife?  Angel,  is  messenger,  and  I 
am  sure  that  the  message  she  brings  comes  straight 
from  God.  Why  has  no  one  like  her  come  to  us 
before?  If  our  parents  and  grandparents  had 
known  what  Ix)la  and  the  baby  there  will  learn, 
I  hope,  perhaps  thou  and  I  would  have  been  differ- 
ent creatures,  wife. ' ' 

"Well,  I  am  sure  I  have  always  tried  to  take 
care  of  my  children, ' '  said  the  wife,  ' '  but  it  seems 
as  if  I  should  know  how  better  now." 

"And  I  shall  help  thee,"  said  Juan,  taking  his 
wife's  hand  affectionately. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
DONA  RAQUEL'S  CONFESSION. 

In  God's  world,  for  those  who  are  in  earnest,  there  is  no  failure. 
No  work  truly  done,  no  word  earnestly  spoken,  no  sacrifice  freely 
made,  was  ever  made  in  vain. — F.  \V.  Robertson, 

AS  Mary  neared  the  ranch  she  thought  she 
saw  several  persons  standing  about  the  half- 
finished  chapel  which  had  been  her  refuge  from 
the  storm  the  night  before,  and  which  stood  at  a 
short  distance  from  the  high  road  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  ranch.  Then  she  became  sure  that  one  of 
the  figures  was  beckoning  to  her,  and  she  turned 
the  pony's  head  aside  from  the  road  and  ap- 
proached the  chapel.  The  persons  proved  to  be 
Don  Bduardo,  his  wife,  Dona  Raquel,  and  the 
little  boy,  Benjamin.  They  were  standing  on  the 
warm,  sunny  side  of  the  building,  and  the  two 
elders  seemed  to  be  discussing  something  very 
earnestly. 

Don  Eduardo  came  toward  the  pony  and  begged 
that  Mary  would  alight  for  a  moment.  The  old 
man  was  closely  wrapped  in  a  coarse  red  blanket, 
and  his  head  was  tied  up  in  a  red  cotton  handker- 
chief, surmounted  by  a  broad-brimmed  sombrero. 
His  dark,  wrinkled  face  beamed  with  pleasure  as 
130 


DONA   RAQUEI/S  CONFESSION.  131 

he  addressed  Miss  Summers,  for  she  was  a  great 
favorite  with  him. 

"  Wilt  thou  come,  Senorita  Maria,  and  tell  my 
wife  what  she  ought  to  do  ?  See,"  he  continued, 
leading  Mary  around  the  corner  behind  the  little 
tower,  "  this  wall  is  bending  inward,  and  there 
are  great  cracks  along  the  adjoining  side." 

"  Yes,  I  see,"  answered  Mary,  after  greeting 
Dona  Raquel,  who  stood  a  little  apart  and  who 
was  listening  somewhat  shyly,  Mary  thought,  to 
what  her  husband  was  saying;  "but  I  do  not 
quite  understand  what  either  Dona  Raquel  or  I 
have  to  do  with  it.  Last  night's  storm  injured 
the  building,  it  seems."  She  spoke  with  her  voice 
raised  so  that  the  old  man  might  hear,  and  he  was 
watching  her  face  earnestly. 

"  Tell  her  all  about  it,  Raquel  mia"  he  said, 
turning  to  his  wife  ;  ' '  thou  canst  make  her  under- 
stand better  than  I." 

"Well,  Mariquita,"  Raquel  explained,  "it  is 
just  this,  and  I  have  often  wished  to  talk  to  thee 
about  it.  Thou  seest  it  is  I  who  have  promised 
this  chapel  to  the  priest,  Padre  Esteban."  She 
paused  a  moment  for  some  expression  of  surprise 
from  Mary,  but  none  came.  She  simply  sat  on  a 
large  stone  and  waited  to  hear  more.  "  There  has 
never  been  one  in  San  Bernabe,  and  the  padre  at 
every  visit  has  said  what  a  shame  it  was  that  we 
should  be  content  to  go  to  mass  so  far  away  as  La 
Bienvenida,  and  last  December,  a  year  ago,  he 


132  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

became  angry  and  said,  in  the  hearing  of  the 
whole  village,  that  unless  a  chapel  was  built  01 
some  house  was  turned  into  a  church  before  his 
next  coining,  which  will  be  during  this  month, 
he  would  excommunicate  the  whole  village. 
Now,  Jose  and  Petra  do  not  believe  that  he  would 
have  the  power  to  do  any  such  thing,  for  most  of 
the  people,  the  women  at  least,  are  good  Catholics, 
and  they  say  it  was  only  the  padre's  jealousy  and 
fear  of  the  Protestants  that  made  him  speak  so 
boldly.  But  I  believed  him,  and  on  the  last  day 
of  his  stay  I  talked  with  him  privately,  and  when 
he  left  I  had  promised  to  have  a  small  chapel  at 
least  sufficiently  completed  for  services  by  the 
time  he  should  come  again.  He  went  away  in 
great  good  humor,  blessing  the  whole  ranch  and 
telling  us  what  great  good  fortune  and  happiness 
would  come  to  us,  and  how  the  Virgin  would  come 
and  dwell  among  us  in  spirit,  and  much  more 
besides.  Well,  on  that  day,  I  set  the  men  to  work. 
Eduardo  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  it,  of 
course,  but  the  money  was  mine,  left  me  by  my 
father,  and  Eduardo  is  always  good  and  lets  me 
have  my  own  way  in  everything,  so  he  did  not 
oppose  me.  The  foundations  were  dug  and  the 
walls  were  begun  before  much  rain  fell,  and  then 
for  two  whole  months  it  rained,  and  it  was  impos- 
sible to  work.  Jose*  was  as  eager  as  I  to  finish  the 
house,  and  he  fretted  sorely  at  the  delay,  for  he 
was  a  good  Catholic  then,  I  can  tell  you." 


DOfiA  RAQUEI/S  CONFESSION.  133 

"Was  then,"  thought  Mary  to  herself.  "I 
wonder  what  he  is  now." 

"  But  the  adobes  were  all  spoiled.  There,  do 
you  see  that  great  bank  of  earth  out  there  ?  That 
is  part  of  the  hundreds  of  adobes  that  we  hauled 
from  El  Sago  instead  of  making  them  here,  for 
the  time  was  short.  So  all  went  wrong ;  for  after 
the  rains  lessened,  the  weather  grew  colder  than 
we  have  ever  known  it  to  be  in  San  Bernabe',  and 
the  Chavis  baby  brought  the  small-pox  from 

S ,  and  soon  there  was  scarcely  a  house  where 

there  was  not  a  child  sick  or  dying  with  it. 
When  the  spring  came,  they  began  again  on  the 
building,  and  by  the  time  the  men  had  put  the 
crops  in  the  ground,  this  much,"  pointing  to  the 
wall  behind  her,  "  was  finished.  This  has  been 
a  long  tale,  sefiorita,  but  I  wanted  thee  to  under- 
stand it  well." 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  told  me,  Dona  Raquel. 
But  I  cannot  understand  why  I  have  not  known 
before  that  you  were  building  the  chapel ;  and  if 
you  are,  why  do  you  not  finish  it? " 

"  That  is  what  I  am  coming  to  now,"  resumed 
Dona  Raquel.  She  drew  nearer  to  Eduardo  and 
Mary,  and  raised  her  voice  so  that  the  old  man 
might  know  how  her  explanation  was  progressing. 
Benjamin  rolled  in  the  sun  at  her  feet,  and  threw 
stones  at  the  prairie  dogs  that  were  popping  in  and 
out  of  their  holes  near  by. 

"We  have  a  month  longer  for  the  work,"  con- 


134  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

tinned  Raquel,  "  for  the  padre  has  sent  word  that 
he  will  not  be  here  before  Christmas  eve,  and  the 
weather  is  fine,  and  the  men  almost  through  with 
the  beans  and  corn.  It  can  be  easily  finished  in 
a  month,  for  only  the  roof  and  inside  work  are 
lacking." 

"Well,  I  suppose  that  they  will  begin  work 
again  then,  if  there  is  nothing  to  hinder,"  said 
Mary,  a  little  impatient  at  this  hindrance,  when 
she  was  so  hungry  and  the  school  hour  at  hand. 

"  No,  Jose*  refuses  to  touch  it  or  to  direct  the 
men,"  declared  Raquel.  "  He  says  that  the  walls 
are  dangerous  and  not  fit  to  hold  the  heavy  beams 
of  the  roof." 

"True  enough,"  interrupted  Eduardo.  "Jose 
is  right.  When  the  wall  of  my  house  caved  in, 
and  a  beam  fell  and  struck  my  wife  and  killed 
her,  I  vowed  to  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  soft, 
insecure  walls,  and  she  was  Josh's  mother." 

"But  I  believe  that  that  is  not  Josh's  true 
reason.  He  has  lost  all  interest  in  the  chapel, 
and  not  only  does  not  wish  to  help  build  it,  he 
does  not  wish  to  see  it  built.  And,  senorita," 
whispered  the  woman,  turning  away  shamefacedly 
from  her  husband  and  bending  toward  Mary's  ear, 
"  neither  do  I.  There,  I  have  said  it.  Now,  what 
is  to  be  done  ?  " 

"Dona  Raquel,"  exclaimed  Mary,  "is  it  possi- 
ble that  I  understand  you  to  mean  that  you  no 
longer  wish  to  build  this  chapel  because — because 


RAQTJEL'S  CONFESSION.  135 

.  Tell  me  why  you  have  changed  your 

mind?" 

"It  is  this  way,"  replied  the  woman,  bravely. 
' '  I  have  never  gone  to  thy  church,  though  Edu- 
ardo  has  often  asked  me  to  go,  if  only  to  see  that 
there  is  no  harm  done  there ;  but  I  have  never 
gone.  Since  thou  hast  been  here,  and  I  have 
heard  thee  talk  about  the  right  way  to  honor  and 
worship  God  and  Christ,  and  since  thou  hast  ex- 
plained to  me  and  Petra  and  the  other  women  just 
what  the  Holy  Bible  does  say  of  the  Virgin  Mary, 
I  have  found  myself  thinking  strange  thoughts. 
And  now  I  can  no  longer  believe  just  what  Padre 
Esteban  would  have  me  believe.  When  he  comes, 
I  shall  not  confess  to  him.  He  is  only  a  man,  and 
I  have  not  sinned  against  him.  And  if  the  Son 
of  Mary  is  the  only  intercessor,  as  thy  Bible  says, 
I  shall  pray  no  longer  to  her.  God  is  my  judge, 
and  his  Son  is  my  Saviour,  and  besides  these  there 
is  no  other."  She  paused,  almost  breathless,  and 
a  fire  of  enthusiasm  glowed  in  her  deeply  set  dark 
eyes. 

Mary  grasped  her  hand,  speechless.  Eduardo 
looked  his  satisfaction  and  patted  his  wife's  other 
hand. 

"  Softly,  wife,  softly  !  "  he  said.  "  I  think  the 
senorita  understands  now,  and  thou  must  not  let 
thyself  get  excited.  Thou  must  think  what  thou 
wilt  do." 

Mary  recognized  in  this  confession  of  Raquel 


136  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

the  result  of  a  long  period  of  struggle  and  earnest 
thought.  How  little  she  had  realized  what  was 
going  on  in  this  quiet  woman's  heart,  as  she  went 
silently  about  her  work  at  home.  She  remembered 
now  the  intentness  of  the  gaze  which  Raquel 
had  fixed  upon  her  often  in  the  small  weekly 
"mothers'  meetings  "  which  she  had  been  induced 
to  attend.  She  had  had  no  listener  more  en- 
couraging, but  the  woman  had  never  cared,  her- 
self, to  talk  about  her  religious  belief.  And  now 
if  the  eyes  of  this  one  were  opening  to  the  light, 
surely  Petra,  who  had  long  inclined  toward  the 
simplicity  and  beauty  of  the  newly  taught  relig- 
ion, would  follow  her,  and  even  perhaps  Jose. 
Those  three,  of  so  much  influence  in  the  ranch, 
could  help  her  to  do  away  with  much  of  the  dis- 
favor in  which  Protestantism  was  held  there. 

"  Dear  Raquel,"  murmured  Mary,  rising,  for  it 
was  now  past  the  hour  for  opening  school.  "  You 
have  given  me  more  happiness  than  I  have  ever 
known  before.  We  will  ask  God  to  help  us  in 
what  we  are  to  do.  You  have  asked  for  my  advice, 
and  as  we  must  try  to  act  wisely  in  this  matter, 
you  must  give  me  a  little  time  to  think.  Be  sure 
to  come  to  the  '  mothers'  meeting '  this  afternoon, 
and  in  the  evening  I  will  go  to  you,  and  when  all 
of  us  are  together,  we  will  talk  of  this.  I  hope 
that  Jose*  will  be  present  also. " 

The  others  agreed  to  this  without  hesitation, 
and  Mary  left  them  still  basking  in  the  sun,  while 


DONA  RAQUEI/S  CONFESSION.  137 

she  hurried  back  to  the  pony.  As  she  slipped  her 
arm  through  the  bridle  to  lead  him  to  the  house, 
she  passed  the  door  of  the  tower  which  rose  just 
behind  that  part  of  the  building  near  which  the 
foregoing  conversation  had  been  held.  She  was 
considerably  startled  when  a  harsh  voice  accosted 
her  from  the  interior,  and  then  the  uncouth  figure 
of  old  Juana  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"Aha,  little  white-skinned  gringa  !  "  she  cried, 
"did  I  not  tell  you  the  truth?  And  the  Holy 
Virgin,  bless  her  !  did  preserve  you  in  the  storm. 
Is  it  not  so  ?  And  here  within  her  own  walls  you 
found  safety,  you  and  the  soldier  Daniel !  " 

Mary  stood  still,  shocked  by  the  look  of  fury  on 
the  woman's  face,  which  grew  more  intense  as  she 
continued. 

"  But  by  all  the  saints,  I  swear  that  she  will  not 
preserve  you  in  that  other  storm  that  is  to  come. 
Who  are  you,  little  Protestant  witch,  to  come  here, 
and  with  your  pretty  face  and  soft  voice  bewitch 
all  the  house  of  Vera,  so  that  they  give  themselves 
over  to  perjury  and  deny  their  vows?  Mother  of 
God !  But  if  this  chapel  is  not  finished  and 
ready  for  the  padre,  a  curse  will  be  upon  you  and 
upon  all  whom  you  have  led  astray  !  And  I  can 
tell  you  that  there  are  others  here  who  feel  as  I 
do."  She  ceased  speaking  from  want  of  breath, 
and  stood,  a  threatening  figure  framed  by  the 
doorway,  while  the  idiot  grandchild  peered, 
grinning,  from  behind  the  grandmother's  skirts. 


138  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

Mary  believed  the  old  woman  crazed,  and 
thought  it  best  to  take  no  notice  of  her  fierce 
words,  so  she  walked  steadily  on  toward  the  road 
after  the  first  pause  of  dismay. 

"Juana  ought  to  be  looked  after,"  she  thought 
to  herself.  "  She  gets  worse  and  worse,  and  some 
day  she  will  be  dangerous.  I  must  speak  to 
Raqttel  about  her.  How  tired  I  am,  and  hungry 
too." 

When  she  reached  the  schoolhouse  all  was  quiet 
inside,  and  she  found  Refugio  in  her  chair,  while 
all  the  scholars  sat  contentedly  with  their  books 
in  hand. 

"  Thank  you,  Refugio  !  "  she  said,  stopping  for 
an  instant ;  "I  am  glad  you  were  so  thoughtful. 
I  was  detained  and  it  is  long  past  two  o'clock. 
Keep  the  children  quiet  awhile  longer,  for  I  must 
get  a  mouthful  to  eat,  before  I  come  back.  Carlos, 
get  on  the  pony,  my  boy,  and  take  her  to  the 
stables.  Poor  Blanquilla  is  hungry  and  thirsty 
too." 

Mary  did  not  find  herself  quite  so  hungry  as 
she  supposed,  when  she  sat  down  before  the 
dinner  which  Petra  brought  smoking  from  the 
kitchen.  She  could  not  eat. 

"A  slice  of  grandmother's  white  loaf-bread, 
with  good,  fresh  butter  would  taste  better  than  all 
these  mixtures.  I  am  tired  of  beans  and  eggs  and 
tortillas,"  she  thought. 

The  words  were  childish,  she  knew,  but  she  felt 


DONA  RAQUEL'S  CONFESSION.  139 

homesick,  weary,  and  as  if  the  responsibilities  of 
the  day  were  growing  too  heavy  for  her  own  weak 
shoulders  alone.  Her  joy  at  Raquel's  confession  was 
shadowed  by  the  realization  now  of  what  dissen- 
sions this  defection  from  the  common  cause  would 
create  in  the  community,  and  old  Juana's  words, 
insane  though  they  were,  seemed  to  threaten  some- 
thing like  danger  to  the  good  people  who  were  shel- 
tering her.  A  heavy  thud  on  the  roof  overhead 
made  her  start  with  something  like  terror,  but  the 
next  moment  she  remembered  that  Jose"  was  hav- 
ing the  roof  repaired  to-day  prior  to  the  winter 
rains,  and  that  the  noise  was  only  the  emptying  of 
a  load  of  earth  on  the  roof  of  her  room.  She 
laughed  then  at  her  nervousness,  and  chided  her- 
self for  the  momentary  lapse  from  the  trust  in  God 
her  Father,  who  alone  could  give  the  necessary 
confidence  and  strength  for  what  was  before  her. 
Promising  herself  a  cup  of  tea  after  school  for 
refreshment  and  strength,  she  left  the  almost  un- 
tasted  dinner  and  before  resuming  her  hat,  shut 
herself  in  her  quiet  bedroom.  Whatever  hap- 
pened within,  she  came  out  a  few  minutes  later, 
with  peace  and  content  restored  to  her  face  and  a 
song  upon  her  lips. 

Juanito  Vera  nestled  close  against  her  shoulder 
during  the  last  half-hour  of  school  that  afternoon, 
and  she  noticed  that  the  hand  he  laid  upon  her 
arm  was  dry  and  hot,  while  his  beautiful  eyes 
looked  dim  and  drowsy.  He  was  ready  with  his 


140  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

verse,  however,  and  the  other  little  ones  grew  very 
still  as  he  repeated  it.  Somehow  they  loved  to 
hear  the  little  talk  between  their  teacher  and  Juan, 
which  always  accompanied  his  verse,  for  he  often 
asked  a  quaint  question,  or  gave  unexpected  re- 
plies to  the  teacher's  inquiries.  He  was  a  strange, 
thoughtful  child,  and  his  first  liking  for  Mary  had 
grown  into  an  adoration  very  pretty  to  see,  and  as 
she  had  hoped,  had  resulted  in  a  nearer  acquaint- 
ance with  the  mother,  Martina,  who  had  married  a 
nephew  of  old  Vera.  Martina  was  still  shy,  and 
had  never  yet  visited  Mary,  or  attended  worship 
in  the  schoolhouse;  but  Mary  had  been  to  her 
house  several  times,  and  had  learned  something 
of  the  woman's  saddened  life.  Of  four  sons,  only 
Juan  remained,  and  he  was  her  only  joy  in  the 
little  home,  where  the  husband  and  father  was 
worse  than  worthless. 

This  afternoon,  after  repeating  the  verse  which 
had  been  given  him  to  learn,  his  eyes  brightened 
a  little,  and  he  said,  eagerly  : 

"  Mamma  and  I  found  another  verse  last  night, 
while  papa  was  out.  We  found  it  in  my  little 
Testament  which  you  gave  me,  and  I  think  it  is 
such  a  beautiful  one.  Listen  :  '  We  love  him,  be- 
cause he  first  loved  us.'  I  think  all  the  verses 
about  love  are  so  beautiful.  Do  you  not? " 

"  Indeed  I  do,  dear  child,"  Mary  replied.  "  But 
who  is  it,  Juan,  who  loved  us  first?" 

"  Mamma  asked  me,  and  I  told  her  that  I  was  sure 


DONA   RAQUEX'S  CONFESSION.  141 

it  was  the  Christ,  because  he  loves  us  better  than 
anybody  in  the  world  can,  and  he  has  done  so 
much  for  us  that  we  just  cannot  help  loving  him." 

"  And  did  mamma  also  think  it  was  Jesus? " 

"  At  first  she  said  that  it  must  mean  the  Holy 
Virgin,  because  the  church  teaches  that  it  is  she 
who  loves  the  world  best,  but  I  showed  her  that 
it  was  he  not  she  in  the  book,  and  she  said  it  must 
be  as  I  had  said.  Was  I  right,  senorita  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Juan  ;  and  never  forget  it,  children,"  she 
said,  looking  tenderly  into  all  the  dark  eyes  lifted 
to  her  own.  "The  dear  Saviour  loves  us  more 
than  we  can  imagine.  He  loves  you  so  that  he  is 
sad  when  you  are  sick  or  sinful,  and  he  has  done 
what  he  could  to  save  you  from  sickness  and  from 
sin." 

"  Does  he  love  me  as  much  as  my  mamma  does?" 
asked  Emilia,  a  bright-eyed  midget  of  six  years. 

1 '  More,  much  more,  my  dear  child.  And  he  is 
always  patient  and  forgiving  if  we  are  sorry  when 
we  do  wrong,  and  if  we  ask  him  to  forgive  us." 

"  Does  he  know  when  I  cry  when  grandmamma 
beats  me?"  asked  another  girl  with  a  white, 
pinched  face  and  ragged  clothes. 

"  He  sees  every  tear,  Lucia,  and  he  knows  how 
to  comfort  you  if  you  will  only  tell  him  that  you 
want  him  to  comfort  and  help  you. ' ' 

"  How  good  he  must  be,  and  how  I  love  him,'* 
sighed  Juan. 

"Well,  I  just  can't  love  him,"  exclaimed  a  tall 


142  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

girl,  in  a  defiant  tone,  "  because  I  have  never  seen 
him,  and  I  do  not  know  what  he  looks  like  nor 
where  he  is.  And  the  picture  we  used  to  have  of 
him  hanging  in  our  house  was  too  dreadful  for  any 
one  to  love.  /  shall  wait  till  I  see  him  before  I 
say  that  I  love  him." 

"He  loves  you,  my  dear,  even  though  you  do 
not  know  him  yet,"  returned  her  teacher,  softly,  as 
she  went  to  the  organ  for  the  closing  hymn,  and 
without  giving  the  girl  time  to  reply  she  began  to 
sing 

Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul, 

in  a  low,  tender  voice.  Noticing  that  Juan  did 
not  join  in  with  the  others,  she  looked  down  at  the 
little  fellow  at  her  elbow  and  saw  his  eyes  brim- 
ming over  with  tears. 


CHAPTER  X. 
FRIENDSHIP'S  PROOF. 

A  friend  loveth  at  all  times. — Prov.  17  :  17. 

WHEN,  the  same  aftemoon,  Mary  and  her  faith- 
ful shadow,  Refugio,  entered  the  house 
where  the  women  and  girls  gathered  each  week 
for  simple  study  of  the  Bible  with  the  young  mis- 
sionary, the  room  was  nearly  full.  It  was  in  the 
home  of  one  of  the  church-members,  who  was 
rather  better  off  than  most  of  the  little  band,  and 
who  had  a  large  sala  opening  directly  upon  the 
road.  The  women  were  sitting  on  stools  or  chairs 
on  the  earth  floor,  and  some  on  the  low  bed,  and 
others  in  the  doorway.  Several  babies  lay  crow- 
ing at  their  mothers'  feet,  and  a  huge  rooster  was 
tied  by  one  leg  to  a  table  in  a  dark  corner.  All 
were  talking  at  a  great  rate,  and  there  were  several 
new  faces  among  the  usual  comers.  Only  Raquel 
sat  silent,  quietly  knitting  away  at  a  coarse  woolen 
sock  for  her  husband.  Mary  noticed  with  pleasure 
Martina's  spare  figure  sitting  by  Petra,  while  the 
latter  was  playing  with  the  infant  of  another 
woman,  trotting  it  on  her  knee. 

When  the  young  teacher  entered  the  chattering 
was  hushed,  Raquel  laid  by  her  knitting,  while 

H3 


144  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

the  babies  sucked  their  thumbs  and  kicked  little 
bare  legs  in  the  air  unconcernedly.  The  little  organ 
had  been  brought  from  the  schoolhouse  and  soon 
the  music  of  the  women's  voices,  led  by  Mary  and 
the  organ,  floated  out  upon  the  crisp  afternoon  air, 
and  here  and  there  along  the  street  a  man's  voice 
hummed  the  familiar  words.  Jose"  sat  in  the  de- 
serted court-yard  of  his  father's  house,  busy  in 
fashioning  a  huge  wooden  bolt  for  the  bulging 
doors  of  the  barn,  now  full  to  overflowing  with 
the  winter  supplies  of  corn  and  beans,  and  he 
smiled  as  he  caught  himself  whistling  in  time 
with  the  singing  voices  the  opening  hymn,  a 
translation  of  "Rock  of  Ages."  After  a  prayer 
and  another  hymn  or  two,  Mary  was  silent  for  an 
instant,  and  that  instant  carried  an  earnest  prayer 
to  the  Father  for  help  and  wisdom  in  talking  with 
these  women  whose  hearts  were  opening  to  instruc- 
tion. 

"  Dear  friends,"  she  began,  while  every  eye  was 
fixed  upon  her  face,  "we  are  going  to  talk  to- 
gether a  little  while  this  afternoon  about  a  very 
familiar  subject,  about  something  that  is  very 
pleasant  to  think  of,  and  about  which  you  all 
know  something.  For  I  do  not  believe  that  there 
is  one  here,  not  a  grown  woman,  nor  a  girl,  nof 
even  a  little  baby  who  has  not  a.  friend,  one  friend 
at  least  We  will  talk  a  little  about  friends  and 
friendship.  Dona  Berta,"  she  said,  addressing  the 
woman  of  the  house,  who  sat  at  Raquel's  side, 


FRIENDSHIP'S  PROOF.  145 

' '  tell  us,  please,  what  a  friend  is,  what  your  idea 
is  of  a  good,  true  friend." 

"Why,  senorita,"  replied  the  woman,  flushing  a 
little,  as  the  eyes  of  all  turned  upon  her  and  some 
lips  smiled,  "a  friend  is  some  one  whom  we 
love. " 

"And  who  loves  us,"  added  Raquel,  gravely. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mary,  with  a  smile,  "  that  is  right, 
for  there  must  be  love  of  some  kind  where  there 
is  friendship." 

"A  friend  is  one  who  does  us  a  favor,"  inter- 
rupted a  young  girl,  on  the  other  side  of  the  room. 

4 '  What  do  the  rest  of  you  think  of  that  ?  Is 
one  always  a  friend  who  does  us  a  good  turn  ? ' ' 
asked  Mary. 

"No,"  replied  Berta,  "for  we  pay  for  many 
favors,  and  even  an  enemy  will  do  one  a  favor  for 
a  price." 

"  I  know  what  you  meant,  Sara,"  Miss  Summers 
replied,  smiling  at  the  girl,  who  was  looking  rather 
mortified.  ' '  And  your  idea  was  good.  You  meant 
that  a  friend  is  one  who  seeks  our  good,  who  is 
kind  to  us ;  one  who  is  not  willing  to  let  slip  an 
opportunity  for  helping  us  when  we  need  help. ' ' 

"  Yes,"  returned  Sara,  "  that  is  what  I  meant ; 
only  I  did  not  say  just  what  I  wished  to  say." 

"Now,"  continued  Mary,  after  everybody  had 
been  given  an  opportunity  to  say  something  about 
friendship,  and  most  had  responded,  "  if  I  have 
a  friend,  and  I  know  that  she  has  any  particular 

K 


146  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

wish  about  anything  that  I  may  say  or  do,  what 
do  I  do  for  this  friend?  Just  what  she  wishes?  " 

"  If  that  should  be  right,"  interrupted  Refugio, 
earnestly. 

"  Yes  ;  and  we  will  suppose  that  my  friend  is 
wise  and  good,  and  only  wishes  the  right  thing. 
Now,  suppose  that  what  seems  to  my  friend  good 
for  me  does  not  seem  so  to  me  ;  perhaps  it  may 
seem  quite  the  contrary." 

"  If  you  love  her  you  will  do  it  all  the  same," 
said  Raquel,  with  a  thoughtful  look  in  her  eyes, 
which  had  not  left  Mary's  face. 

"You  must  trust  her,  and  then  it  will  seem 
right  to  you  if  you  love  her,  as  Dona  Raquel 
says,"  added  old  Berta. 

"  Then,  suppose  my  friend,  whom  I  must  trust 
as  you  say,  and  whom  I  certainly  love,  if  she  is 
my  friend — suppose  this  dear  friend  should  require 
of  me  some  very  hard  thing  to  do ;  something 
which  seems  impossible,  which  seems  even  dan- 
gerous and  like  death  to  me,  what  must  I  do?  " 

"  Do  the  thing,"  said  a  firm  voice  ;  and  Mary  was 
not  surprised  to  hear  Raquel  answer  thus. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  a  fine  thing  to  prove  one's 
friendship  by  doing  some  very  hard  thing,  do  you 
not,  senorita?"  asked  Sara,  with  glowing  cheeks. 
'  Yes,  I  do,  Sara ;  and  we  cannot  give  a 
stronger  proof  of  friendship  to  a  friend  than  by 
doing  some  difficult  thing  which  that  friend  may 
require  of  us.  What  do  you  think  would  be  the 


FRIENDSHIP'S  PROOF.  147 

greatest  test  of  friendship  between  two  friends, 
Petra  ?  "  she  questioned. 

The  young  woman  looked  down  upon  the  little 
ones  rolling  upon  the  floor,  then  out  through  the 
doorway  toward  the  mountains,  where  the  purple 
mists  of  evening  were  already  beginning  to  gather. 

' '  The  hardest  thing  would  be  to  die,  it  seems  to 
me,"  she  replied,  at  length.  It  cost  the  reticent 
woman  a  struggle  to  utter  even  this  short  sentence 
in  public,  and  she  almost  choked  over  the  last 
words. 

' '  Do  you  know,  my  friends,  what  the  wisest 
book  in  the  world  says  about  this?  Why,  just 
what  our  Petra  has  said.  Listen,  while  I  read : 
'  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man 
lay  down  his  life  for  his  friends.'  That  is  very 
plain,  is  it  not  ?  The  greatest  proof  of  love  is  that 
one  is  willing  to  give  his  life,  and  not  only  is  will- 
ing, but  really  does  give  his  life  for  a  friend.  Has 
such  a  thing  ever  happened?  Yes,  it  has  hap- 
pened many,  many  times,  for  even  human  love  is 
sometimes  strong  enough  for  that.  You  would  die 
for  your  baby,  Dona  I/uisa,  I  am  sure,"  to  a 
woman  who  sat  nursing  a  chubby  boy,  "  if  it  were 
necessary." 

"And  I  for  Juanito,"  said  Martina,  as  if  forget- 
ting herself  in  these  sweet,  new  thoughts. 

' '  What  would  you  think  of  a  king's  son  who 
should  leave  all  the  comforts  and  delights  of  his 
father's  palace,"  continued  their  teacher,  "and 


148  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

should  go  to  live  among  his  father's  poor,  ignorant 
subjects  just  because  he  felt  sorry  for  their  poverty 
and  ignorance  and  wished  to  teach  them  to  be 
wiser  and  better  and  healthier  and  happier? 
Would  that  be  friendship? " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  replied  several. 

"  And  suppose  that,  although  he  should  be  loved 
and  obeyed  by  a  few  of  the  people,  most  would 
hate  and  persecute  him  so  much  as  even  to 
threaten  to  kill  him,  and  he  should  still  stay 
among  them,  returning  good  for  their  evil,  and 
helping  them  in  every  way  he  could,  would  that 
be  friendship  ? 

"And  then,"  and  Mary's  voice  grew  very 
solemn,  "if  those  who  hated  him  should  finally 
kill  him  in  their  hatred  and  wickedness,  what 
would  you  think  of  such  love?" 

"  She  is  speaking  of  the  Lord  Jesus,"  whispered 
Sara  to  her  companion,  a  younger  girl. 

"A  king's  son  would  not  do  such  a  thing," 
said  the  young  mother  Luisa. 

"A  King's  Son  has  done  it,"  Mary  replied. 
"  Our  Saviour,  the  Son  of  God,  has  given  us  just 
such  proofs  of  his  love  for  us,  who  without  a 
knowledge  of  him  are  weak  and  ignorant  and 
sinful.  And  now,  as  it  is  growing  late,  we  cannot 
talk  much  more  about  this,  but  I  want  to  tell  you 
a  message  that  he  left  for  all  of  his  friends  here 
on  earth.  This  is  it :  *  Ye  are  my  friends  if  ye  do 
whatsoever  I  command  you.'  Do  you  wish  to  be 


FRIENDSHIP'S  PROOF.  149 

the  Saviour's  friends  ?  Obey  him  ;  do  what  he 
tells  you  to  do.  Are  you  his  friends?  Then 
prove  it  by  obedience,  even  though  obedience 
bring  hardship,  suffering,  or  even  death  / "  A 
thrill  passed  through  the  little  assemblage  at  these 
earnest,  simple  words,  and  Raquel's  stern,  set  lips 
relaxed  into  a  peaceful  smile,  while  tears  fell  from 
Petra's  eyes  upon  the  tiny  face  of  the  baby  upon 
her  lap. 

After  they  had  separated,  one  of  the  new-comers 
said  to  her  companion,  as  they  walked  quietly 
homeward  : 

' '  And  is  that  the  kind  of  sermon  she  preaches  ? 
Why,  I  thought  she  would  be  railing  against  the 
padre,  and  the  Holy  Virgin,  and  the  saints,  and 
telling  us  we  were,  all  lost,  if  we  did  not  go  to  her 
cultos.  But  there,  it  was  very  different,  and  I 
shall  go  again  next  Friday  and  hear  some  more. 
It  can  do  one  no  harm  to  hear  that  kind  of  talk." 

The  house  had  recovered  its  usual  quiet  now,  as 
all  of  the  guests  had  returned  to  their  homes, 
Captain  Daniel  accompanying  Angela  on  a  visit 
to  her  father's  house  in  La  Providencia.  Since 
the  cool  nights  had  begun,  all  of  the  house  doors 
were  closed  early  in  the  evening,  and  the  court, 
instead  of  being  the  sociable  family  sitting*  room 
as  usual,  was  dark  and  quiet.  The  moon  had  not 
yet  appeared  after  supper  when  Mary  crossed  from 
her  room  to  the  sala,  and  the  stars  were  brightly 


150  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

sparkling  in  the  dark,  blue  sky.  Even  the  dogs 
had  crept  into  some  haven  of  warmth  and  shelter 
from  the  wintry  air,  and  the  ranch  was  quiet, 
though  it  was  only  eight  o'clock.  Jose  was  sit- 
ting at  the  table  in  the  center  of  the  room,  with 
books  and  pencil,  when  Miss  Summers  entered, 
and  soon  both  were  struggling  with  the  difficulties 
of  teaching  and  learning  English.  It  was  the  first 
time  that  week  that  an  English  lesson  had  been 
possible,  with  the  confused  coming  and  going  of 
the  visitors,  and  Jose"  had  not  been  able  to  study  as 
usual.  Petra  had  not  yet  come  in  from  the  kitchen, 
and  Raquel  alone  was  with  her  step-son.  Don 
Eduardo  was  cold  and  could  not  be  induced  to 
leave  the  little  charcoal  fire  in  the  kitchen  until 
the  time  when  the  Senorita  Maria  and  Jose"  should 
be  at  leisure  to  talk  over  the  affair  broached  that 
morning.  Raquel  sat  silently  knitting,  while  Jose" 
labored  over  his  grammar  exercise.  He  laid  down 
his  pencil  with  a  sigh  of  relief  as  his  teacher 
took  a  seat  at  his  side  and  received  the  book  from 
his  hand. 

"  It  seems  more  difficult  than  usual,  to-night, 
senorita.  And  what  I  have  written  is  not  worth 
looking  at." 

"Well,  there  is  not  much  of  it,  I  see,"  she 
replied,  "and  we  shall  soon  get  through  with 
it  Ah,  see  here,  this  is  naturally  very  difficult 
for  you,  but  in  English  we  do  not  make  the  ad- 
jective agree  in  number  with  the  noun,  as  in 


FRIENDSHIP'S  PROOF.  151 

Spanish.  We  do  not  say,  as  you  have  written  it : 
1  Goods  children  obey  their  parents.'  No,  the 
adjective  is  unchangeable  and  I  will  strike  off  the  s. 
I  am  glad  you  remembered  the  position  of  the 
adjective."  And  thus  they  went  through  the 
half-dozen  sentences  prepared. 

"Now  instead  of  more  grammar,  we  will  talk 
for  a  little  in  English,  as  you  like  to  do,  and 
which  will  be  good  practice.  You  know  many 
words  and  already  read  surprisingly  well,  but  you 
cannot  yet  pronounce.  Now,  not  a  word  of  Span- 
ish. About  what  shall  we  talk  ?  " 

"  I  have  so  much  shame,  Miss  Mary,"  replied 
the  young  man,  blushing  to  the  roots  of  his  hair  ; 
"because  I  cannot  speak  your  language  well.  But 
I  have  many  desires  to  learn  it." 

"  And  you  will  very  soon  learn  it,  I  am  sure,  if 
you  are  not  ashamed  to  speak  it.  Now,  why  do 
you  wish  to  learn  English  ?  " 

' '  Because  I  have  the  hope  of  going  to  the — 
the  Estados  Unidos — how  is  it  said  ?  I  forget 
myself." 

' '  The  United  States,  you  mean,  and  you  did 
not  forget  yourself,  Jose",  it  was  the  words  that  you 
forgot.  What  will  you  do  when  you  go  to  the 
United  States,  I  wonder." 

"'Wonder'?  What  is  that?  I  do  not  under- 
stand." 

"Ah,  yes.  Well,  never  mind  about  'wonder.' 
Why  do  you  wish  to  leave  Mexico?" 


152  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"I  have  heard  of  the  fines  schools  and  colleges 
there,  and  that  a  young  man  has  manys  opportuni- 
ties to  be  great  and  famous  in  those  States." 

"  Jose*,  Jose  !    Fines  and  manys  ! 

"Oh,  I  forgot  my ,  no,  I  forgot,  Miss  Maty. 

I  should  have  said  fine  and  many.  It  is  very, 
very  difficult,  your  language.  I  wish  to  be  great. 
I  wish  to  learn  all  that  a  young  man  may  learn, 
but  not  in  Mexico,  not  in  the  city,  to  be  only  a 
fine  nobody,  like  my  nephew  Daniel,  no  !  " 

"  But  Jose",  you  need  not  be  like  Daniel.  Surely 
you  know  better  than  that.  And  I  believe  that 

you  will .  Why,  Dona  Raquel,  what  is  the 

matter?"  she  added,  as  she  saw  the  woman  sitting 
upright  in  her  chair,  letting  her  knitting  fall  into 
her  lap,  and  staring  with  wide-opened  eyes  at 
Jose". 

"  The  English,"  cried  Jos6,  laughing  heartily ; 
"  is  it  not  mamd  mta  ?  ' ' 

"  What  is  that  you  two  are  saying  ?  Is  it  talk  ? 
It  is  to  me  like  the  language  of  the  animals  to  one 
another.  Can  it  be  true  that  you  are  saying  any- 
thing, that  there  is  any  sense  in  what  you  say  !  " 

"  You  have  not  heard  it  before,  Raquel  ? " 
asked  Mary.  "  Why,Jos£  and  I  have  often  sjy'-.en 
thus  in  our  lessons." 

"  And  I  sat  dozing  in  my  chair !  I  cannot 
understand  how  such  jargon  can  be  talk,  real 
human  talk.  And  do  you  like  it,  senorita,  with 
those  tongue-twisting  sounds  ?  " 


FRIENDSHIP'S  PROOF.  153 

"  Why,  mamma,  it  is  her  own  language,  just  as 
Spanish  is  ours." 

"  But  she  speaks  Spanish  also,  and  as  well  as 
we  do.  How  can  one  person  speak  two  tongues  ? 
Of  course  I  knew  she  had  her  own  language,  but 
I  never  thought  it  could  be  like  that.  Listen, 
father,"  she  cried,  as  Eduardo  entered,  followed 
by  Petra  with  the  sleeping  Benjamin  in  her  arms, 
"  our  Jose*  can  talk  the  senorita's  talk.  It  does  not 
seem  to  mean  anything,  but  they  understand  each 
other.  I  never  should  have  guessed  that  Jose"  was 
so  clever." 

All  laughed  at  this,  and  then  the  old  man  sat 
down  by  his  wife's  side  and  silence  fell  over  the 
little  company.  Jose*  scribbled  meaningless  figures 
on  a  scrap  of  paper,  and  looked  impenetrable. 
All  the  lightness  and  youth  had  left  his  face  which 
grew  graver  and  graver. 

"  Stop  knitting  now,  Raquel,"  demanded  Edu- 
ardo, in  a  business-like  tone,  for  a  little  nap  over 
the  brazier  in  the  kitchen  had  refreshed  him,  and 
his  wits  were  evidently  in  the  right  place.  When 
once  aroused  from  the  torpor  and  listlessness  of 
old  age,  which  was  slowly  creeping  over  his  facul- 
ties^ he.  was  still  a  shrewd  man. 

"  Yes,"  assented  Raquel,  laying  aside  her  work  ; 
"  I  shall  knit  no  more  to-night.  Jose  and  Petra, 
listen.  You  both  know  of  my  vow  concerning 
the  chapel,  and  that  I  have  talked  with  you  to-day 
about  carrying  on  the  work.  Now  I  ask  you  no 


154  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

longer  to  help  me,  for  I  have  decided  the  matter 
for  myself.  I  shall  not  finish  the  chapel." 

Again  there  was  silence  in  the  room.  Presently, 
to  the  surprise  of  all,  Eduardo  rose  to  his  feet  and 
spoke  again,  firmly  and  cheerfully. 

"  Raquel,  thou  hast  decided  rightly.  I  said 
nothing  to  thee,  for  on  the  day  when  I  joined  the 
Baptists  I  promised  thee  that  I  would  let  thee  go 
thy  own  way.  The  money  was  thine  and  thy 
will  was  thine.  But  I  knew  that  some  day  thou 
wouldst  know  the  truth,  and  better  by  my  pray- 
ing to  God  for  thee  than  by  hauling  and  pull- 
ing thee  along  after  me.  And  now  that  thou  hast 
given  thy  word  to  have  no  more  to  do  with  the 
building  of  the  chapel,  wilt  thou  go  no  farther? 
Wife,  art  thou  going  to  stand  still  with  thy  feet  in 
one  road  and  thy  heart  in  another?  " 

"No,  Eduardo,  esposo  mz6," l  answered  the 
woman,  and  she  arose  and  stood  by  him.  "  I  wish 
to  serve  God  in  the  true  way.  If  I  have  erred  and 
worshiped  those  who  should  not  have  had  his 
place  in  my  heart,  I  am  sorry  with  all  my  heart, 
and  I  shall  give  all  that  up  and  learn  the  senorita's 
way." 

"And  that  way,  dear  Raquel,  is  only  the  way 
that  our  Saviour  has  taught  us,"  said  Mary,  with 
emotion  in  her  voice. 

11  You  made  me  feel  this  afternoon,  when  you 
talked  to  us  about  Christ's  friendship  and  love  for 

1  My  husband. 


FRIENDSHIP'S  PROOF.  155 

us,  as  if  I  should  be  the  vilest  wretch  in  the  world, 
if  I  did  not  love  and  honor  him  above  all  others. 
I  decided  then,"  she  ended,  happily. 

"  And  Petra,"  said  Mary,  on  an  impulse,  turning 
and  laying  her  hand  lovingly  on  the  arm  of  the 
young  woman  at  her  side  ;  "  you  will  be  with  us 
too,  will  you  not  ?  You  know  that  we  are  trying 
to  follow  our  Master  simply  and  truly,  and  that 
we  have  the  truth  about  all  this  from  the  Bible. 
Will  you  not  believe  that  he  alone  is  your  Saviour 
and  able  to  satisfy  your  soul  ? ' ' 

UI  believe  that  already,  Mariquita,"  replied 
Petra,  quietly  ;  "I  have  only  been  waiting  for 
mother  to  speak." 

"  Oh,  what  happiness  !  "  exclaimed  Mary,  with 
shining  eyes.  "  And  Jose,  can  you  not  also ?  " 

But  he  interrupted  her,  raising  his  hand  as  if  to 
ward  off  a  blow. 

"  Do  not  ask  me  anything,  senorita ;  I  cannot 
deceive  you,  and  yet  I  cannot  say  what  you 
wish  me  to  say  ;  not  yet,"  he  added.  And  then 
he  hurried  from  the  room.  - 

"  The  chapel  might  be  turned  into  one  for  our- 
selves," began  Eduardo  ;  "we  need  a  larger " 

"  No,  no,  Don  Eduardo,"  interrupted  Mary  ;  u  I 
do  not  think  it  will  do  to  speak  of  that  just  yet. 
We  must  wait  until  Mr.  Richards  comes  again 
before  engaging  in  anything  of  such  importance 
as  that  would  be.  I  think  that  we  should  only 
be  raising  needless  opposition  by  continuing  the 


156  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

work  for  our  own  use.  At  any  rate  it  will  not  be 
long  now  before  he  conies,  and  he  will  tell  us 
what  we  should  do." 

"Mariquita  is  right,  I  think,  father,"  said 
Petra  ;  "for  while  you  manage  the  ranch,  you 
do  not,  as  you  said  of  mother,  govern  the  will 
of  the  people.  It  will  take  careful  management 
and  much  wisdom  to  make  them  understand." 

"Well,  let  it  be  then,"  replied  the  old  man. 
"Perhaps  you  are  right.  Jose  will  simply  tell 
the  men  that  you  have  decided  not  to  finish  the 
chapel  at  all  ;  it  is  only  honest  for  that,  at  least, 
to  be  well  understood.  And  then  we  shall  see." 

The  young  teacher  was  not  sure  that  she  was  sat- 
isfied with  this  way  of  managing  what  she  was  con- 
vinced would  prove  a  delicate  affair,  but  it  was 
really  the  best  that  could  be  done,  and  Mr.  Rich- 
ards had  written  that  he  would  be  with  her  in  a 
few  weeks.  It  was  now  only  the  first  of  Decem- 
ber, and  the  Roman  Catholic  priest  would  not 
arrive  before  Christmas.  She. stopped  a  moment 
by  the  well  in  the  center  of  the  court  as  she  went 
to  her  room  a  few  moments  later,  and  filled  her 
lungs  with  the  pure,  cold  mountain  air  as  it  swept 
down  from  the  peaks  shadowing  the  village.  The 
moon  was  rising,  round  and  red,  over  the  mount- 
ain side,  and  already  the  stars  were  paling  before 
her  greater  light.  As  she  moved  on  toward  her 
door,  she  almost  stumbled  over  a  figure  which  sat 
on  the  low  curbing  of  the  well.  It  was  Jose,  and 


FRIENDSHIP'S  PROOF.  157 

as  he  rose,  lie  looked  more  dejected  than  Mary 
had  ever  seen  him. 

"  Senorita  Maria,"  he  said,  as  she  started  vio- 
lently at  his  unexpected  appearance.  "I  only 
wanted  to  say  to  you  what  I  could  not  say  in 
there  before  the  others,  so  I  waited  outside  here 
for  you. " 

"  What  is  it,  Jose  ?  "  asked  Mary,  wearily.  It 
seemed  as  if  she  could  scarcely  bear  anything 
more  just  then.  The  day  had  been  full  of  expe- 
riences such  as  she  had  not  known  before  in 
Mexico,  and  she  was  physically  exhausted. 

"  I  shall  not  detain  you.  It  is  only  that  I 
wished  to  explain  that  when  you  asked  me  in 
there  if  I  also  would  not  join  you,  I  wanted  to 
say  yes  ;  but,  senorita,  it  is  different  with  us  men, 
with  me,  from  what  it  is  with  our  women.  They 
are  born  religious,  I  believe  ;  at  any  rate  they  are 
accustomed  to  think  about  the  church,  and  the 
mass,  and  the  saints  and  all  that,  all  their  lives, 
and  for  them  the  change  is  not  so  difficult ;  when 
once  they  are  convinced  that  they  have  been 
wrong,  they  have  only  to  choose  another  way  of 
being  religious.  Now  I  never  have  had  any 
thoughts  about  religion  and  never  have  cared  any- 
thing about  it,  either  way.  I  was  willing  for  my 
father  to  be  a  Protestant,  and  for  my  mother  to  be 
a  Romanist " 

"  But  Jose,  your  mother  says  that  you  are  a 
good  Catholic ! " 


158  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"  That  was  only  because  I  never  make  tun  of 
the  priest,  as  so  many  men  do,  and  because  I  have 
never  forgotten  the  prayers  and  the  catechism 
taught  me  when  I  was  a  child.  It  is  not  hard  to  be 

o 

a  'good  Catholic,'"  and  he  laughed  somewhat 
bitterly.  "  But  now  /  have  changed,"  he  con- 
tinued. "  I  hardly  know  when  it  began,  but  I  do 
think  I  begin  to  see  the  wrong,  the  real  error  of 
our  country's  religion  in  this  one  thing :  /  do  not 
find  that  it  influences  the  people  to  lead  good  lives. 
They  are  taught  to  be  charitable.  Why?  To 
get  their  own  souls  after  death,  or  those  of  their 
friends,  out  of  purgatory.  It  teaches  them  to  lie 
and  to  deceive.  And  in  the  large  cities,  Daniel 
says  it  has  grown  to  be  a  mere  question  of  money 
between  the  church  and  the  people.  Now  you, 
senorita,"  and  his  voice  lost  the  hard  tone  and  his 
face  brightened,  "  have  been  showing  me  some- 
thing different.  You  have  taught  me  how  men 
ought  to  live,  so  as  to  carry  out  the  will  of  God. 
You  have  not  said  much  to  me,  but  enough  to 
make  me  thiuk.  And  I  have  thought  enough  to 
make  me  know  that  you  are  right  and  enough  to 
make  me  desire  to  be  like  you,  and  to  try  and 
lead  the  kind  of  life  a  good  man  ought  to  lead. 
You  see,  senorita,  I  wish  to  understand  it  all, 
but  I  cannot  be  sure  that  I  do.  Do  you  under- 
stand?" 

"I  do,  Jose",  and  I  sympathize  with  you,  my 
friend.  God  is  leading  you,  and  you  will  find  the 


FRIENDSHIP'S  PROOF.  159 

truth,  I  am  sure.  Now,  good-night,  for  it  is 
growing  late." 

Jose  then  returned  to  his  family,  and  agreed 
with  Petra  that  Miss  Summers'  plan  was  right  and 
best  for  all. 

' '  There  will  be  enough  said  about  giving  up 
the  chapel,"  he  said;  "and  we  will  be  quiet  and 
give  the  people  no  more  than  necessary  to  discuss 
at  once.  Mr.  Richards  will  be  able  to  arrange  it 
with  less  dissatisfaction  than  we.  We  will  make 
no  secret  of  our  change  of  purpose,  and  will  answer 
any  question  that  they  may  put  to  us.  You  have 
abandoned  the  work,  mamma,  because  you  do 
not  wish  to  pay  your  vow  to  the  Virgin,  as  you 
have  given  up  her  worship.  You  are  prepared,  I 
hope,  for  what  is  to  follow,  for  our  friends  will  of 
course  demand  the  reason  why." 

"  Yes,  Jose  ;  and  it  seems  to  me  a  very  simple 
thing  to  say,  '  I  am  going  to  join  the  senorita's 
religion  and  pray  to  God  and  Christ  alone,  there- 
fore I  cannot  build  a  chapel  for  the  service  of 
Mary.'  I  think  they  will  understand." 

"There  is  no  doubt  about  that,  mamd  mia" 
added  Petra,  ' '  and  I  believe  that  there  are  many 
who  will  agree  with  us.  What  Mariquita  has  told 
us  ever  since  she  came  to  us  seems  to  me  so  simple 
and  true  that  I  wonder  how  any  one  can  find  fault 
with  it." 

"They  do  find  fault  however,  Petra,"  remarked 
Jose,  after  the  parents  had  left  the  room  and  the 


l6o  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

brother  and  sister  were  alone,  "and  there  will  be- 
more  trouble  than  you  imagine.  Most  of  the 
women  will  be  furious,  for  you  know  yourself 
the  influence  of  Padre  Esteban  over  them.  Per- 
haps," he  added,  sarcastically,  "his  influence 
would  not  be  so  great  if  he  were  not  young  and 
handsome  ! " 

"  But  the  men,  Jose",  they  are  not  fanatical. 
They  scarcely  ever  go  to  mass,  and  many  do  not 
confess  any  longer — that  is,  the  younger  men  like 
you.  And  look  at  brother  Daniel.  He  has  no 
use  for  Padre  Esteban." 

"  Look  at  his  wife,  Petra ;  there  is  not  a  better 
Romanist  in  the  ranch  than  Rosa,  and  she  rules 
her  husband  and  hates  the  Seiiorita  Maria." 

' '  Mariquita  has  spoken  to  me  to-day  about 
old  Juana.  She  thinks,  Jose,  that  she  should  be 
watched,  and  it  really  seems  strange  what  a  vio- 
lent way  she  has  had  several  times  lately  with  the 
seiiorita.  Has  Maria  told  you  how  she  behaved 
yesterday  while  we  were  away  at  the  picnic  and 
Maria  was  alone  with  her,  and  of  her  strange  be- 
havior and  words  to-day?  " 

"  No  ;  what  has  that  old  hag  to  do  with  the 
senorita?" 

Petra  told  him  of  the  crazy  words  of  the  woman, 
which  had  half  amused,  half  startled  Mary,  and 
Jose"  remained  thoughtful  for  a  moment. 

"  I  shall  see  to  it,"  he  replied  at  length.  "  Per- 
haps Rosa  has  had  something  to  do  with  all  that 


FRIENDSHIP'S  PROOF.  161 

They  are  great  cronies,  I  know,  and  are  often 
gossiping  together." 

"Nothing  can  hurt  us,  of  course,"  remarked 
Petra,  as  she  closed  the  shutters  and  blew  out  the 
candles ;  "but  I  do  not  wish  the  senorita  frightened 
away.  Mr.  Richards  will  not  consent  to  her  stay- 
ing longer,  if  things  grow  unpleasant."  * 

"I  think  we  can  take  care  of  the  senorita, 
Petra,"  said  Jose,  as  he  returned  his  sister's  good- 
night. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE   LITTLE   LAMB  GOES  HOME. 

I  am  glad  to  think 

I  am  not  bound  to  make  the  wrong  go  right, 
But  only  to  discover  and  to  do 
With  cheerful  heart  the  work  that  God  appoints ; 

I  will  trust  in  him 

That  he  can  hold  his  own ;  and  I  will  take 
His  will,  above  the  work  he  sendeth  me, 
To  be  my  chiefest  good. 

— Jean  Ingelow. 

A  NOTHER  December  morning  broke  clear  and 
•HL  cold,  and  Mary  awaked,  wondering-  what  was 
the  uncomfortable  weight  upon  her  spirits,  and 
what  could  cause  the  strange  sinking  of  her  heart. 
Surely  something  had  happened  not  at  all  in 
keeping  with  the  pure,  bright  sunniness  of  the 
outside  world,  something  remaining  from  the  black 
shadows  of  the  night !  After  dressing,  she  stood  at 
her  window,  looking  listlessly  out  upon  the  empty 
street,  awaiting  Refugio's  summons  to  breakfast. 
Before  going  to  sleep  she  had  been  reading  some 
chapters  from  Auerbach's  "On  the  Heights,"  and 
her  feeling  of  discouragement  now  found  an  echo 
in  the  memory  of  some  of  the  last  words  read  ;  they 
had  lingered  in  her  mind,  and  though  she  blamed 

herself  for  her  depression,  and  sought  to  find  in- 
162 


THE  LITTLE   LAMB  GOES  HOME.  163 

spiration  in  the  joy  that  had  been  hers,  yesterday, 
at  the  news  of  Raquel's  and  Petra's  conversion  to 
the  Protestant  faith,  she  seemed  to  herself  such  a 
small  and  helpless  being,  the  great  questions 
dividing  the  human  race  seemed  so  insoluble  and 
hopeless  and  unnecessary,  that  her  memory  inevi- 
tably recurred  to  these  disturbing  words  from  the 
book  :  ' '  What  do  we  really  do  in  the  world  ?  The 
trees  would  grow  without  us  ;  the  animals,  in  the 
field  and  in  the  air  and  in  the  water,  would  live 
without  us.  Everything  has  of  itself  something 
to  do  in  the  world ;  man  alone  must  make  him- 
self something  to  do.  And  so  we  paint  and  build 
and  plough  and  study  and  practise  for  mutual  man- 
slaughter, and  the  only  difference  between  man 
and  beast  is  that  men  bury  their  dead." 

Fully  realizing  the  heterodoxy  of  this  sentiment 
and  its  unworthiness  as  an  influence  upon  the 
faith  of  a  child  of  God,  it  still  haunted  her 
thoughts  and  shadowed  her  face.  The  truth  was, 
that  the  reaction  after  an  exciting,  too  full  yester- 
day, followed  by  a  restless  night  of  planning,  was 
telling  upon  her  strong  nerves,  and  she  sat  down 
to  her  breakfast  with  an  aching  head  and  little 
appetite.  Refugio's  first  words  did  not  take  from 
her  general  feeling  of  uneasiness. 

"  Have  you  been  vaccinated,  senorita  ?  " 

' '  Yes,  indeed  ;  many  times  since  I  have  been 
in  Mexico.  Why  do  you  ask  me  that,  Refugio?  " 

"  Because  they  were  saying  out  there  in  the 


164  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

court  that  you  were  sure  to  have  been  vaccinated. 
I  do  not  know  what  it  means  at  all  ;  but  they 
said  that  if  you  had  been  you  could  not  have  the 
small-pox. ' ' 

"No,  there  is  no  danger  that  I  shall  have 
it  now,  even  if  I  should  be  exposed  to  it.  And  I 
have  already  seen  many  cases  of  it  while  I  was 

in  S last  year.     But  why  are  they  talking  of 

this  now?" 

"  Only  that  Juanito  Vera  is  sick,  and  they  think 
it  may  be  small-pox." 

"  Why  should  it  be  small-pox  ?  "  inquired  Mary, 
hastily;  "  there  is  none  here,  and  it  is  only  be- 
ginning in  S ,  where  they  have  it  every  year. 

And  no  one  has  come  from  there  with  it. ' ' 

"  They  think  that  Martina's  sister's  baby,  in 
La  Bienvenida,  died  with  it.  Do  you  not  remem- 
ber that  Juanito  went  with  his  mother  to  the 
burial,  about  ten  days  ago  ?  He  had  to  be  absent 
from  school  that  afternoon,  and  his  mother  said 
that  he  cried  all  the  way  to  the  town,  because  he 
did  not  want  to  go." 

"  Ten  days  ago,"  murmured  Mary,  thoughtfully, 
"  then  it  is  just  time  now,"  she  said  aloud,  a  little 
vaguely. 

"Dona  Martina  found  him  in  a  convulsion 
when  she  got  home  from  the  meeting  yesterday 
afternoon.  She  had  left  him  playing  with  the 
boys  in  the  road,  and  did  not  think  he  was  sick 
much,  as  he  often  has  a  pain  in  his  head.  He  was 


THE  LITTLE   LAMB  GOES  HOME.  165 

on  the  floor  in  a  fit  when  she  got  home,  and  his 
papa  was  sitting  by,  too  drunk  to  call  any  one. 
She  was  going  to  send  for  you,  but  some  say  that 
old  Juana  came  by  just  then  and  said  that  he 
would  surely  die  if  you  were  called,  and  that  it 
was  a  judgment  on  his  mother  for  having  left  him 
to  go  to  the  mothers'  meeting.  Senorita,  do  not 
look  so !  Of  course,  that  was  all  a  lie.  Every- 
body thinks  now  that  it  is  the  small-pox,  and  that 
he  took  it  from  the  baby.  Console  yourself,  dear 
senorita,  and  try  to  eat.  See,  the  eggs  are  so  fresh 
and  good,  and  the  bread  is  fresh  too,  for  the  cart 
came  this  morning  from  the  oven  and  has  brought 
such  beautiful  loaves  and  twists. ' ' 

"No,  no,  Refugio,"  she  returned,  "I  cannot 
eat  now.  Go  on  and  tell  me  all  that  you  know. 
Who  is  taking  care  of  poor  little  Juan  ?  " 

"  Old  Juana,  and  she  knows  all  about  it,  they 
say.  She  has  not  left  the  house  at  all,  and 
senorita,  you  will  not  go  there,  will  you  ?  "  pleaded 
Refugio,  looking  anxiously  into  her  friend's  pale 
face. 

"Of  course  I  shall  go  to  see  Juan,  Refugio," 
she  replied  ;  "he  will  want  me  and  I  am  sure  I 

can  make  him  more  comfortable  than  that " 

she  interrupted  herself,  and  then  sprang  hastily  to 
her  feet. 

"  You  have  never  been  vaccinated,  Cuca.  How 
fortunate  it  is  that  I  wrote  for  fresh  points  last 
week.  And  to  think  how  disappointed  I  was 


1 66  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

yesterday  that  the  mail  brought  no  letters,  only  the 
package  of  vaccine.  Come,  roll  up  your  sleeve  ;  I 
will  begin  with  you,  and  then  you  must  go  to  the 
mothers  of  all  the  school  children,  and  say  that  I 
wish  to  vaccinate  to-day  all  who  have  not  had  the 
disease.  Quick,  we  shall  have  a  busy  day." 

All  depression  was  gone  now,  for  there  was 
something  to  do  after  all,  besides  "  bury  the  dead." 
She  calmly  and  quickly  went  about  her  prepara- 
tions with  the  light  of  energy  in  her  face. 

She  opened  the  medicine  closet.  Carefully  ar- 
ranged on  the  shelves  were  bottles  of  antiseptic 
preparations  ready  for  solution,  jars  of  antiseptic 
gauze  and  of  vaseline,  rolls  and  rolls  of  bandages 
of  different  widths  and  materials,  and  sponges. 
Small  drawers  contained  syringes  and  simple  sur- 
gical instruments,  and  larger  ones  bundles  of  old 
linen  cloths,  worn  sheets,  and  underclothing.  In 
the  inner  cupboard  were  ranged  medicines  in  bot- 
tles and  boxes,  and  all  was  in  perfect  order. 

"You  will  eat  now,  senorita,"  said  Refugio, 
when  the  vaccination  was  over,  and  the  girl  was 
smiling  again.  "It  is  early  yet,  and  you  have 
tasted  nothing." 

"Yes,  I  shall  eat  now,"  replied  Mary,  sitting 
down  again  at  the  table;  "and  Refugio,"  she 
called  after  the  girl,  who  was  starting  on  her 
errand,  "ask  Petra  to  come  to  me  for  a  few 
moments.  I  wish  to  speak  with  her. " 

From  her  conversation  with  Petra,  who  came 


THE  LITTLE  LAMB  GOES  HOME.  167 

as  soon  as  she  received  the  summons,  she  learned 
that  it  was  not  yet  certain,  but  most  probable, 
that  Juan  had  small-pox.  His  fever  was  very 
high,  and  he  was  delirious,  though  as  yet  there 
was  no  eruption.  Petra  did  not  tell  Mary  that 
the  child  called  continually  for  her,  and  had  to  be 
watched  constantly  to  prevent  him  from  rushing 
out  of  the  room  to  run  to  the  schoolhouse.  She 
hoped  that  Mary  would  not  hear  of  this,  and  that 
she  might  be  kept  altogether  from  the  house.  So 
she  told  her  of  Juana's  presence  with  the  sick  boy, 
and  of  the  mother's  frantic  despair,  and  wild  de- 
nunciations of  herself  for  having  attended  the 
meeting  of  the  day  before.  She  had  lost  three 
sons  of  the  same  disease  during  the  epidemic  of 
the  year  before. 

' '  But  that  was  before  we  were  all  vaccinated, ' ' 
continued  Petra,  ' '  so  all  of  the  children  except 
Juan  took  the  disease.  Juan  was  with  Angela  in 
La  Providencia,  when  the  plague  arrived,  and 
they  vaccinated  him  there,  and  did  not  send  him 
home  till  late  in  the  spring.  But  the  vaccine  did 
not  take,  I  have  heard  Martina  say,  and  only  yes- 
terday she  was  saying  that  she  wished  to  have  it 
done  again." 

"  Poor  child,"  sighed  Mary,  grieved  at  the  fate 
of  her  little  favorite.  "  I  shall  go  and  see  what  I 
can  do  for  him.  What  do  they  do  here  for  such 
an  awful  sickness,  Petra  ? ' ' 

"  Nothing  much,  but  keep  out  the  air  and  light. 


1 68  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

The  little  ones  generally  die  with  the  throat  and 
nose  full  of  the  sores.  I  saw  one  child  last  year 
lying  on  a  mat  without  a  rag  over  it,  and  the  ter- 
rible sores  covered  it  so  that  one  could  see  nothing 
else.  I  hope  never  to  see  such  a  sight  again. 
It  was  nearly  dead  then. ' ' 

"  How  perfectly  inhuman  !  "  shuddered  Mary. 
"  But  is  nothing  done,  no  bathing,  nothing  to 
give  a  little  ease  ?  " 

"  There  is  very  little  that  can  be  done,  senorita. 
Most  of  the  people  are  poor,  and  we  are  so  far 
from  a  doctor.  It  always  seemed  to  me  that  it 
would  be  a  comfort  to  have  the  fever  in  the  head 
cooled  by  wet  cloths,  and  that  some  of  the  dread- 
ful itching  and  burning  afterward  might  be 
helped  by  bathing,  but  such  a  thing  has  never 
been  heard  of  here.  They  are  not  neglected,  the 
poor  sick  things  ;  but  there  does  not  seem  anything 
to  do  but  give  them  what  they  can  manage  to  eat 
and  drink,  and  then  sit  by  and  watch." 

"It  is  true  that  there  is  no  remedy  for  the  dis- 
ease, but  there  is  much  that  good  nursing  and 
cleanliness  can  do  to  lessen  the  suffering  and  the 
serious  after  effects.  Tell  me  if  there  are  many 
who  will  be  liable  to  take  this  from  little  Juan. 
If  so,  there  ought  to  be  something  done  to  prevent 
a  spread  of  the  disease.  In  this  pure,  fresh  air, 
there  ought  not  to  be  an  epidemic  from  only  this 
one  case." 

41 1  think  that  there  is  not  the  danger  that  there 


THE  LITTLE  LAMB  GOES  HOME.  169 

was  last  year,  senorita,"  replied  Jose,  whom  Petra 
called  as  he  was  passing  the  door  and  to  whom 
the  question  was  repeated.  "Almost  all  the 
older  inhabitants  have  already  had  it,  or  have 
been  vaccinated.  Do  you  remember  how  well  our 
arms  '  took  '  last  winter,  Petra,  and  how  ill  Benja- 
min was  with  his  ?  Then  I  vaccinated  all  of  us 
over  again,  to  be  sure  that  there  was  no  '  humor ' 
left,  and  it  did  not  take  again.  So  we  are  safe. 
But  you,  senorita  ?  " 

UI  am  safe,  also,"  she  replied,  "and  as  I  have 
nursed  small-pox  in  a  New  York  hospital,  I  do 
not  fear  for  myself.  Now,  what  about  the  chil- 
dren, and  the  babies  who  have  come  since  the 
sickness  last  year  ?  " 

"  There  are  many  yet  who  would  have  it,  if 
exposed,  for  the  parents  of  some  were  afraid  when 
the  official  was  here  vaccinating,  and  they  hid 
their  children,  or  pretended  that  they  had  already 
had  the  disease.  Of  course  the  babies,  as  you  say, 
are  not  safe.  What  shall  I  do,  Petra  ?  Ride  over 
to  La  Providencia  for  vaccine  ?  They  are  sure  to 
have  it." 

"No,  no,"  said  Miss  Summers.  ''See,  I  have 
enough  points,  fresh,  reliable  ones,  for  a  regiment. 
You  and  I  can  vaccinate  the  whole  ranch  before 
night.  And,"  she  added,  after  thinking  a  moment, 
"  I  think  that  I  could  not  spend  the  day  better. 
What  do  you  say  ;  cannot  some  one  get  on  a  horse 
and  ride  to  every  house  here  and  in  El  Porvenir  to 


1 70  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

save  time,  and  beg  all  to  bring  children  who  have 
not  been  vaccinated,  to  the  schoolhouse  ?  I  have 
already  send  Cuca  to  the  school  children.  Surely, 
last  year's  warning  will  give  them  more  sense,  and 
they  cannot  refuse." 

"  You  are  right,  senorita,"  declared  Jose",  seizing 
his  hat,  l' I  will  go  myself  through  San  Bernabe 
and  will  send  to  El  Porvenir.  But  first,"  he  added, 
more  slowly,  "  you  must  vaccinate  yourself  again. 
I  shall  not  go  until  that  is  done."  And  Petra 
added  a  like  plea. 

To  humor  them  and  to  hasten  their  plans,  she 
laughingly  assented  and  rolled  back  her  loose 
sleeve  upon  the  fair  white  roundness  of  her  arm. 

In  a  moment  it  was  done,  and  they  separated, 
each  intent  upon  the  duties  which  the  day  was 
unfolding  ready  to  their  hands. 

There  was  little  for  the  young  teacher  to  do, 
until  some  response  should  be  made  to  the  sum- 
mons to  the  schoolhouse  ;  so  she  arranged  her 
bag,  with  the  necessary  articles  for  the  work  be- 
fore her,  and  started  to  the  schoolhouse,  meaning 
to  stop  and  see  Juan,  on  the  way. 

Groups  of  men  and  women  stood  idly  about  in 
the  open  space  which  did  duty  as  garden  of  the 
ranch,  and  many  turned  with  unfriendly  looks 
toward  her,  as  she  left  the  gate.  Those  who 
had  been  engaged  on  the  chapel  building  before, 
had  expected  to  be  hired  again,  and  now  that  the 
outside  work  in  the  fields  was  done,  the  time  had 


THE   UTTLE  LAMB  GOES  HOME.  1 71 

come  for  resuming  work.  Great  had  been  their 
dismay  when  Jose  had  announced  to  them  that 
morning,  just  before  he  had  been  with  Miss  Sum- 
mers, that  his  mother  had  decided  not  to  complete 
the  building,  and  that  he  would  not  need  their  ser- 
vices. He  had  spoken  pleasantly,  but  decidedly, 
and  the  men,  even  those  of  his  own  family,  stood 
enough  in  awe  of  him  not  to  utter  the  thoughts 
and  suspicions  which  quickly  arose  in  their  minds. 
When,  therefore,  they  saw  the  teacher  quietly  go 
toward  the  schoolhouse,  as  usual,  one  among 
them  said  : 

' '  And  the  Sen orita  Maria  is  to  be  allowed  to  go 
on  unhindered  in  her  miserable,  proselyting  ways. 
I  wager  that  this  is  her  work. ' ' 

"  You  may  be  sure  of  it,"  added  a  woman. 
"  And  who  is  she,  to  teach  that  we  must  not  pray 
to  the  holy  mother  of  God,  because,  as  she  says, 
she  was  only  a  woman  and  mother  like  the  rest 
of  us,  while  she  lets  herself  be  made  an  idol  of  by 
the  Vera  family  ?  " 

"  Leave  me  out,  if  you  please,"  called  the  deep 
voice  of  Dona  Rosa  Vera,  Captain  Daniel's  mother. 
"I  have  always  known  that  she  was  a  smooth- 
faced little  viper,  who  has  crawled  into  the  nest 
of  papa-in-law  Kduardo.  I  thought  better  of  my 
mother-in-law,  who  has  always  been  so  good  a 
Catholic,  and  was  so  free  with  her  vows  last  year 
to  the  padre." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  only  the  small-pox,"  suggested  a 


172  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

pretty  little  woman,  one  of  those  who  had  attended 
the  meeting  the  day  before  with  her  fat  baby  boy. 
She  liked  the  senorita,  and  did  not  wish  her  to  be 
blamed  for  such  a  dire  offense. 

"All  the  more  reason  why  we  should  work  for  the 
Virgin,"  snapped  a  vicious-looking  old  dame,  who 
crouched  over  a  few  live  coals  which  she  held  in 
an  earthen  pan  in  her  lap.  "  Did  not  the  plague 
cease  last  year  so  soon  as  the  men  got  to  work 
again  upon  the  church  ?  You  are  one  of  the 
Protestants  thyself,  Luisa,  and  you  had  better 
look  out  for  thy  little  one,  or  the  breath  of  the 
evil  one  will  be  upon  him." 

" That  I  shall,  Catarina  mia"  declared  Luisa, 
stoutly  hugging  her  baby,  and  covering  his  shiny 
brown  face  with  kisses.  "  I  heard  the  senorita's 
Refugio  telling  Sara's  mother  that  there  would  be 
vaccination  to-day  at  the  §choolhouse,  and  I  shall 
carry  my  Pablito.  There,  there,"  she  cried,  hush- 
ing her  child,  who  nestled  hungrily  against  her 
bosom  ;  "  the  senorita's  white  hands  will  not  hurt 
my  boy,  but  she  will  save  him  from  the  dreadful 
small-pox.  Come,  let  us  go,  little  one !  "  and  she 
actually  started,  following  Mary  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, notwithstanding  the  gibes  thrown  after  her 
by  the  crowd,  led  by  old  Catarina. 

"  Bold-faced  hussy  !  "  sneered  Dona  Rosa ;  "  it 
is  like  her  bad  blood  to  be  throwing  her  impu- 
dence into  our  very  faces.  When  her  Pablo  is  old 
enough  to  speak,  ask  him  what  sort  of  man  his 


THE  LITTLE  LAMB  GOES  HOME.  173 

father  is,  and  where  lie  has  kept  himself  all  this 
while,  and  then " 

"Rosita,  Rosita ! "  whispered  old  Catarina, 
"  hush,  here  is  Jose ;  he  will  hear  you,  and  you 
know  he  does  not  like  such  talk." 

When  Luisa  with  her  baby  was  but  a  few  yards 
behind  Mary,  she  stopped  and  sat  down  upon  a 
stone  by  the  roadside,  for  she  saw  Mary  pause  in 
front  of  Martina's  cottage  and  stand  for  a  moment 
outside  the  door.  "I  will  wait  for  her  here," 
she  mused  ;  "I  do  not  suppose  she  will  go  in- 
side." 

Mary  did  mean  to  go  inside,  but  she  was  pre- 
vented by  the  father  of  the  sick  boy.  He  was  sober 
now,  and  his  face  was  white  with  anger  and  distress, 
and  he  stood  in  the  doorway  and  cried  in  a  loud 
voice,  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  Luisa,  while 
Juana's  evil  face  peered  from  behind  the  window- 
shutter. 

' '  Do  not  come  near  my  child !  You  first  be- 
witched him  with  your  songs  and  music,  and  now 
you  have  brought  this  sickness  upon  him.  You 
shall  never  see  him  again.  Go  ! ' ' 

There  is  no  telling  what  more  he  might  have  said 
if  Jose*  had  not  appeared  by  Miss  Summers' side,  as  if 
by  magic.  He  caught  her  by  the  hand  and  led 
her  a  little  farther  on  to  the  schoolhouse  door, 
which  she  entered,  speechless.  He  left  her  there 
without  a  word  and  hurried  back  to  his  cousin, 
who  still  stood  threatening  in  his  doorway.  Luisa 


174  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

did  hot  wait  to  hear  what  Jose"  told  the  fellow,  for 
she  hurried  on  to  Mary,  but  she  was  sure  that  she 
saw  sparks  flashing  from  Jose's  eyes  as  she  passed, 
and  his  lips  were  white  and  trembling. 

It  was  good  for  Mary  that  she  had  work  to  do 
immediately,  with  little  time  to  think.  All  that 
day  at  intervals,  and  for  several  succeeding  days, 
children  were  brought  from  El  Porvenir  and  many 
outlying  houses,  as  well  as  from  the  ranch  itself, 
and  before  long  most  of  the  exposed  had  been 
vaccinated.  Jose*  helped  her  the  first  day  toward 
the  last,  and  though  he  did  not  mention  the 
affair  of  his  cousin,  there  was  a  grimly  satisfied 
look  on  his  face  that  told  Mary  that  she  would 
not  be  troubled  again. 

As  they  were  leaving  the  house  just  at  dusk, 
and  she  stopped  to  lock  the  door,  Jose"  said  : 

"  You  must  not  go  to  Martina's  again,  senorita. 
They  are  all  against  you  there  and  they  will  not 
let  you  see  Juan.  The  poor  child  knows  no  one 
now  and  you  could  do  him  no  good.  Will  you 
promise  me  not  to  go  ?  " 

Mary  would  only  promise  that  she  would  not 
enter  the  house  unless  she  should  be  allowed  to  do 
something  for  the  child,  and  she  made  Jose*  prom- 
ise in  his  turn  that  he  would  try  to  induce  them 
to  let  her  at  least  send  soft  cloths  and  soothing 
washes  for  the  poor  little  fellow. 

When  she  laid  her  head  on  her  pillow  early 
that  evening  there  was  neither  strength  nor  incli- 


THE  LITTLE  LAMB  GOES  HOME.  175 

nation  for  any  thought  at  all,  and  she  lay  in 
dreamless  slumber  through  the  long  night. 

There  was  no  epidemic  of  small-pox  in  the 
ranch,  though  there  were  many  sick  children  with 
swollen,  aching  arms. 

lyittle  Juan  sickened  and  died  so  suddenly  and 
all  was  so  soon  over,  that  the  disease  spread  no 
farther  than  his  desolate  mother's  cottage.  Dur- 
ing the  few  days  of  his  illness  his  cry  was  for  the 
maestro, ;  sometimes  he  called  her  his  "darling 
senorita,"  or  his  "beautiful  angel,"  and  even  on 
the  last  day,  when  the  eruption  was  deep  and 
burning  over  his  whole  body,  and  he  lay  choked, 
and  gasping,  and  half-delirious,  his  eyes  glued  fast 
with  the  noisome  disease,  he  groped  pitifully  all 
about  the  bed  and  never  lay  quiet  a  moment  in 
his  efforts  to  get  away  and  to  her. 

Mary's  heart  was  wrung  with  grief  at  the  ac- 
counts of  the  child's  suffering  and  at  her  own 
helplessness.  One  day  as  she  sat  in  the  school- 
room, she  suddenly  gave  way  and  broke  down  in 
an  uncontrollable  fit  of  sobbing  as  a  little  pro- 
cession passed  the  door,  bearing  a  small  blue 
coffin  ;  and  all  the  children  knew  that  Juan  was 
d->ad  and  that  the  teacher  had  loved  him  as  she 
had  loved  no  other  child.  But  they  were  not 
jealous,  for  they  too  had  loved  the  gentle  little 
fellow,  and  they  mingled  their  sobs  with  hers. 

Samuel,  little  Lola's  cousin  from  El  Porvenir, 
caught  Mary's  hand  and  knelt  by  her  side  to 


176  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

comfort  her.  "  Do  not  cry  so,  seiiorita,"  lie  said. 
"You  could  have  made  him  well  as  you  did 
our  Lola,  if  they  had  let  you.  But  now  he  is 
gone  to  live  with  Jesus,  has  he  not?  And  he  will 
not  suffer  any  more." 

Kissing  her  little  comforter,  she  calmed  herself 
and  went  on  with  the  lessons. 

And  so  little  Juan's  life  ended,  and  he  never 
grew  to  be  a  "  great  man  "  ;  but  who  can  say  that 
his  life  was  too  short  or  wasted  ? 

That  night,  Captain  Daniel  galloped  home  from 
his  uncle's  house  in  L,a  Providencia  with  the 
startling  news  that  pretty  Angela  Vera  had  small- 
pox, and  that  the  doctors  had  declared  the  disease 
epidemic  in  that  town. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

RAINY  DAYS  AT  THE   RANCH. 

I  ask  thee  for  a  thoughtful  love, 
Through  constant  watching  wise ; 

To  meet  the  glad  with  joyful  smiles 
And  to  wipe  the  weeping  eyes ; 

And  a  heart  at  leisure  from  itself, 
To  soothe  and  sympathize. 

— A.  L.  Waring. 

THE  day  after  Captain  Daniel's  return  to  San 
Bernabe*  dawned  gray  and  chill.  Before 
eight  o'clock  a  fine  drizzle  of  rain  was  falling,  and 
by  noon  it  was  pouring  in  steady  torrents.  A  few 
children  came  to  school,  but  at  noon  intermission 
their  teacher  told  them  not  to  return  through  the 
rain  to  the  afternoon  session,  as  there  was  no  way 
to  heat  the  room  nor  to  dry  their  wet  clothing.  The 
next  morning  the  steady  downpour  continued,  and 
it  was  evident  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  close 
school  entirely  during  these  first  days  of  rain.  The 
first  winter  rains  in  the  north  of  Mexico  often  con- 
tinue for  two  or  three  weeks,  bringing  a  succession 
of  dreary,  dark  days,  to  be  followed  at  the  end  of 
the  fortnight  perhaps  by  a  long  season  of  bright, 
cold  weather.  Later  on  there  may  be  another 
season  of  damp,  gloomy  days,  with  more  or  less 

M  177 


178  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

rain.  The  winter  is  a  peculiarly  trying  time  for 
the  poor,  who  often  wear  their  entire  wardrobe  at 
once,  and  have  no  dry  clothing  at  home  for  a 
change. 

The  road  through  San  Bernabe  at  this  season 
was  converted  into  a  shallow  creek  during  the 
hardest  showers,  and  the  ranch  grew  solitary 
enough  out  of  doors.  Here  and  there  dripping 
figures  plodded  about,  completely  enveloped  in 
thick  red  blankets,  and  with  pantaloons  rolled  up 
above  the  knees,  for  the  cattle  must  be  comforta- 
bly housed  and  fed. 

Inside  the  small,  uncomfortable  huts  it  was 
stifling  and  unhealthful,  for  when  the  wind  beat 
the  rain  against  their  fronts  the  flap  doors  had  to 
be  lowered,  and  therefore  little  light  and  air 
entered  the  dim,  close  rooms.  The  meals  had  to 
be  cooked  inside  also,  and  the  smoke  from  the  bad 
smelling  mesquite  wood  was  almost  unbearable. 

The  days,  however,  were  short,  and  there  was 
little  for  the  women  to  do  but  provide  the  simple 
meals  for  their  families,  while  the  babies  swung 
in  their  shallow  boxes  beneath  the  blackened  roofs, 
and  the  older  children  tumbled  about  the  floor. 
The  men  dozed  about  the  premises,  or  congregated 
in  the  thatched  sheds  near  the  great  barn,  where 
the  cows  lowed  and  the  sheep  bleated ;  and  here 
they  often  found  better  accommodations  than  at 
home  with  their  wives  and  children.  In  the  better 
houses,  whose  roofs  had  been  repaired,  and  whose 


RAINY   DAYS  AT  THE  RANCH.  179 

floors  were  paved  and  raised  above  the  level  of  the 
ground,  the  rainy  days  passed  snugly  and  swiftly, 
with  knitting  and  mending  the  men's  out-door 
farming  garments,  while  entire  families  were 
sometimes  employed  in  winding,  by  means  of 
clumsy  hand-turned  wheels,  large  and  small  bob- 
bins for  the  loom  shuttles  in  the  next  town.  Great 
hanks  of  scarlet  and  white  and  blue  cotton  were 
deftly  thrown  around  the  wheels,  and  men,  women, 
and  girls  sat  all  day  chattering  or  singing,  in  time 
with  the  busy  whirr  of  the  machines,  and  heaping 
baskets  with  the  smoothly  wound  bobbins  made  of 
sections  of  a  hollow  reed.  These  were  afterward 
sent  by  basketfuls  to  the  town,  where  they  were 
woven  into  rebozos  in  the  immense  hand-and-foot- 
looms  still  in  use  in  all  parts  of  Mexico. 

In  Don  Eduardo's  house  all  was  in  order  for  the 
winter.  Benjamin  built  corn-cob  houses  and  pens, 
seated  upon  the  great  brick  brazero.  Sometimes 
he  was  allowed  to  fan  the  fresh  charcoal  with  the 
kitchen  fan,  and  he  would  laugh  with  delight  at 
the  thousands  of  sparks  from  the  crackling  coal  as 
the  draught  swept  them  up  the  yawning  mouth 
of  the  great  chimney  overhead.  Petra  was  the 
cook  for  the  family,  although  several  women  were 
hired  for  the  rougher  work  about  the  kitchen  and 
house  ;  but  no  one  could  make  such  sweet  cakes 
as  she,  and  her  peppery,  hot  compounds  of  chopped 
meat,  onions,  and  cheese,  rolled  up  in  tortillas  and 
cooked  in  a  sauce  of  red  peppers  and  tomatoes, 


1 80  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

were  famed  throughout  the  ranch.  Raquel  brooded 
over  her  knitting,  or  assisted  at  the  grinding  of 
the  corn  for  the  tortillas,  while  Eduardo  dozed  in 
a  corner,  after  an  invariable  round  every  morning 
among  his  cattle.  Mary  laughed  heartily  the  first 
morning  as  she  watched  the  old  man  sally  forth 
from  the  kitchen  and  cross  the  court  toward  the 
stables  behind  the  house  buildings.  She  called 
Refugio  to  her  side,  and  both  enjoyed  the  comical 
sight  of  the  patriarch's  rainy  season  costume.  He 
came  toward  them  as  he  saw  them  in  the  doorway, 
and  there  was  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eyes  as  he 
greeted  Mary,  while  the  rain  streamed  down  upon 
his  blanketed  shoulders  from  the  broad-brimmed 
hat.  Besides  the  umbrella-shaped  hat  and  the 
blanket,  he  wore  trousers  made  of  heavy  carpeting, 
which  one  would  fancy  completely  impervious  to 
the  rain,  and  which  were  gay  with  red  and  green 
squares  of  color.  These  were  turned  up  about  the 
ankle,  and  upon  the  soles  of  his  sandaled  feet 
pieces  of  thick  board  were  bound  by  leather  straps, 
which  raised  his  feet  an  inch  or  two  above  the 
ground.  The  bent,  but  still  sturdy  figure  splashed 
by  Mary's  door  every  morning,  and  she  always 
made  a  point  of  seeing  him  as  he  passed  after  that 
first  day,  for  she  liked  to  watch  the  brown,  wrin- 
kled face  light  into  a  pleasant  smile  at  the  sight 
of  her,  while  his  cheery  greeting  made  her  heart 
lighter  and  stronger  for  her  day's  work.  This 
work  now  consisted  of  long-neglected  sewing  and 


RAINY  DAYS  AT  THE   RANCH.  l8l 

mending,  of  writing  letters,  and  of  teaching  Re- 
fugio. 

The  heavy  fall  of  the  rain-beat  upon  the  dirt 
roof  overhead  and  the  cosiness  of  her  own  dry 
quarters  were  very  agreeable.  Here  the  hours  did 
not  drag  for  her,  and  Refugio's  contented  face 
continually  shone  with  peaceful  happiness.  The 
latter  could  now  read  well,  and  she  never  wearied  of 
writing  and  of  drawing.  Jose  had  had  a  plain  desk 
made  for  her,  and  it  stood  in  the  outer  room,  where 
she  would  sit  by  the  open  door  for  hours,  for  there 
was  no  window,  trying  to  draw  anything  and  every- 
thing which  took  her  fancy  in  the  court  outside 
or  in  the  room.  She  was  also  learning  to  sew  very 
neatly  under  her  teacher's  instruction,  and  no  one, 
watching  the  pretty,  plump  figure  and  flushed  and 
interested  face  bending  over  her  work,  would 
have  recognized  in  her  the  emaciated,  half-dying 
creature  who  had  fallen  prostrate  in  that  same 
doorway  some  months  before. 

Jose  spent  most  of  his  spare  time  now  in  the 
schoolhouse  with  his  music,  and  the  wind  often 
blew  fragments  of  his  chords  and  scales  and  even 
hymns,  down  the  rain-beaten  road  to  the  ranch. 

The  excitement  about  the  chapel  had  subsided 
for  a  time  ;  although  Jose*  and  Petra  knew  bettei 
than  Mary,  or  even  Raquel,  that  this  shut-in  time 
gave  ample  opportunity  for  much  discussion  over 
the  embers  at  night,  and  among  the  bobbin  wheels 
all  day. 


l82  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

The  principal  actors  in  the  affair  now  discussed 
it  no  longer  ;  they  were  awaiting  the  arrival  of 
Mr.  Richards.  Raquel  and  Petra  meanwhile  had 
begun  a  quiet  attendance  upon  church  and  Sun- 
day-school, and  there  seemed  little  notice  taken. 

Captain  Daniel  spent  his  time  between  his 
mother's  kitchen  and  the  sala  in  Jose's  home. 
The  two  young  fellows  had  never  been  very  cor- 
dial in  their  relations,  as  there  was  little  in  com- 
mon between  the  young  uncle  and  his  nephew. 
Daniel  amused  himself  with  his  accordion  and 
the  dogs,  and  spent  his  evenings  in  teasing  Petra, 
who  gave  him  a  kind  of  indulgent,  half-unwilling 
admiration.  She  was  much  older  than  he,  and 
gave  him  a  great  deal  of  good  advice  as  to  the 
deportment  of  a  young  soldier  in  the  capital. 

Six  days  had  passed  since  his  return  to  San 
Bernabe",  and  no  news  had  been  heard  of  poor 
little  Angela,  stricken  with  small-pox  in  the 
infected  town. 

On  the  seventh  morning  after  little  Juan  Vera's 
burial,  Mary  sat  busily  writing  at  her  table  in  the 
bedroom.  She  was  much  interested  in  writing 
to  her  grandmother  an  account  of  her  little  favor- 
ite's life,  as  far  as  she  had  known  it,  and  of  his  last 
days  in  school.  She  was  ending  with  the  lament 
that  she  had  not  been  allowed  to  enter  the  now 
desolate  home,  where  Martina  sat  mourning  all 
of  her  dead  boys,  and  "  would  not  be  comforted." 
She  had  written  this  much  when,  through  her 


RAINY  DAYS  AT  THE   RANCH.  183 

open  door,  she  saw  Refugio  in  earnest  conversa- 
tion with  some  one  at  the  outer  door,  and  she  laid 
aside  her  pen,  not  to  take  it  up  again  for  many 
long  days  and  nights  of  anxiety.  A  messenger 
had  come  from  La  Providencia,  telling  of  Angela's 
extreme  danger,  and  imploring  that  the  senorita 
would  return  with  him  to  the  poor  girl's  bedside. 

Jose  had  brought  the  news  to  Miss  Summers,  and 
she  soon  heard  what  particulars  the  servant  had 
been  able  to  give.  Angela  had  been  ill  for  eight 
days,  delirious  and  almost  unmanageable.  The 
disease  seemed  taking  the  worst  form,  and  yet  in 
the  midst  of  her  delirium  she  called  continuously 
for  the  Senorita  Maria,  just  as  Juan  had  done. 
Her  parents  begged  that  she  would  come  to  save 
the  life  of  their  child,  as  the  overworked  physician 
had  already  declared  the  form  of  her  disease 
incurable,  and  had  left  her  to  attend  to  the 
more  hopeful  cases  in  his  charge. 

Petra  and  Raquel  joined  the  group  in  the  ante- 
room before  Jose  finished  his  account,  and  both 
exclaimed  in  horror  at  the  idea  of  the  fearful  jour- 
ney that  would  be  before  her,  and  the  danger  of 
the  epidemic. 

' '  The  servant  says  that  there  is  not  a  house  in 
the  whole  town  without  the  disease,  Mariquita, 
and  you  must  not  go.  Besides,  the  road  will  be 
flooded,  and  the  river !  It  will  impossible  to  get 
along,  for  in  some  places  the  river  bed  is  the  only 
road.  The  servant  was  drenched  and  once  nearly 


1 84  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

drowned,  lie  says.  I  asked  him,"  continued  Petra, 
4 'if  it  would  be  possible  for  you  to  go,  and  he 
only  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  made  no  reply." 

Mar>r  looked  at  Jose,  who  remained  silent 
while  the  women  spoke,  and  stood  flicking  at  his 
boots  with  a  long  switch  which  he  carried  in  his 
hand. 

"  I  must  go,"  declared  Mary,  who  thought  she 
discovered  no  signs  of  discouragement  in  Josh's  face, 
and  surely  he  knew  better  than  these  women  the 
dangers  and  possibilities  of  such  a  trip.  "  How 
can  I  refuse,  Doiia  Raquel,  when  they  have  sent 
so  far  for  me,  and  Angela  needs  me  so  much  ? 
Do  not  dissuade  me,  Jose*,"  she  exclaimed,  as  he 
opened  his  mouth  to  speak.  ' '  Only  say  that  it 
will  not  be  a  reckless  thing  to  do.  I  am  well  and 
so  strong  ! ' ' 

' '  I  was  only  going  to  say  that  our  horses  can  be 
ready  in  half  an  hour,"  returned  Jose",  smiling  into 
the  eager  face,  "  and  we  can  set  out  immediately, 
without  waiting  for  the  servant,  who  says  he 
rode  all  last  night  in  the  dark  and  ought  to 
rest." 

;'You!"  exclaimed  Mary  and  Petra  together. 
"Will  you  go  too?" 

"  Certainly,"  he  replied,  quietly  ;  "there  is  no 
one  else  to  take  the  senorita.  She  could  not  go 
with  the  man  alone.  I  know  the  road  perfectly, 
and  besides  there  is  a  short  cut  by  which  we  can 
avoid  the  river  road.  It  will  be  rough  and  a  little 


RAINY  DAYS  AT  THE  RANCH.  185 

dangerous,  but  the  senorita  is  brave  and  will  not 
be  afraid." 

"  No,  indeed  !  "  Mary  declared,  enthusiastically; 
"  not  with  you  !  And  as  you  say,  there  is  no  one 
else." 

"Daniel,"  suggested  Raquel.  "  But  there,"  she 
continued,  "  there  is  no  one  who  knows  the  way 
so  well  as  our  Jose",  and  with  no  one  else  should 
Mariquita  go.  Come,  Petra,  let  us  get  some  food 
ready.  They  cannot  arrive  before  dark  and  must 
have  dinner  on  the  way. ' ' 

"In  half  an  hour,  senorita,"  called  Jose,  as  he 
stepped  out  into  the  rain.  "  It  is  already  twelve 
o'clock,  and  we  shall  have  to  ride  hard  to  reach 
the  town  before  dark." 

Half  an  hour  later  Mary  stood  at  the  door,  clad 
in  a  suit  of  rubber  waterproof,  cloak,  hood,  leg- 
gings, and  shoes.  Refugio  stood  at  her  side  with 
tearful  eyes  and  quivering  lips,  and  held  a  large 
package,  also  done  up  in  rubber  cloth.  Jose  was 
coming  toward  them,  mounted  on  his  splendid 
gray,  and  leading  the  black  mare  which  Daniel 
had  ridden  to  the  picnic.  Petra  and  Raquel  came 
at  the  same  moment  from  the  kitchen,  unheeding 
the  rain  in  their  frequent  journeys  back  and  forth 
across  the  court,  and  bearing  cups  of  hot  chocolate 
for  the  travelers. 

"The  dinner  and  supper  too,  perhaps,"  said 
Petra,  "  are  in  Jose's  saddle-bags,  senorita.  You 
must  eat  well  to  keep  out  the  cold.  I  do  not  think 


186  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

any  tiling  will  get  wet,  as  we  have  wrapped  it  all 
carefully,  and  the  saddle-bags  close  securely." 

"  Here,  Antonio,"  called  Jose  to  the  stable-boy, 
"strap  the  sefiorita's  bundle  behind  her  saddle, 
and  then  hold  the  horses  while  I  put  her  on  Black 
Jane."  He  alighted  as  he  spoke,  and  standing 
within  the  door  took  the  cup  of  chocolate  from  his 
mother's  hand. 

"  Do  you  think  you  can  ride  her,  senorita  ?  "  he 
asked,  while  Mary  was  trying  to  swallow  the  hot 
drink  and  burning  her  tongue  in  the  effort.  "  She 
is  much  stronger  than  little  Blanquilla,  but  is 
easily  managed  with  a  firm  hand  on  the  bridle. " 

"Yes,"  replied  Mary,  a  little  doubtfully,  as  she 
eyed  the  big  mare  champing  her  bit  and  stamping 
her  feet  in  the  puddles  of  water.  She  was  pre- 
vented from  saying  more  by  the  arrival  of  Captain 
Daniel,  dainty  as  usual,  as  he  stepped  carefully 
between  the  pools  of  water,  carrying  an  umbrella 
over  his  head. 

4 '  It  is  a  sin  to  take  the  senorita  into  that  place, 
Jose,"  he  growled  ;  "  for  if  she  is  not  drowned  on 
the  way  she  will  die  of  small-pox  after  she  gets 
there." 

"  Either  of  which  fates  would  be  preferable  to 
sitting  here  waiting  for  the  rain  to  go  by,  and 
knowing  that  Angela  wanted  me,"  asserted  Mary, 
with  spirit.  "And  besides,  I  am  not  afraid.  Jose 
says  that  there  is  little  real  danger  for  one  who 
knows  the  road." 


RAINY  DAYS  AT  THE   RANCH.  187 

Jose*  did  not  answer  Daniel,  and  the  next 
moment,  uncovering  the  saddle  of  Mary's  horse, 
he  turned  and,  lifting  her,  deposited  her  gently 
upon  it.  The  good-byes  were  hastily  said,  and 
the  two  left  the  courtyard  followed  by  the  tears 
and  good  wishes  of  the  three  women,  while 
Daniel's  soul  swelled  with  a  baffled  sense  of 
mingled  jealousy  and  hatred. 

"  If  he  brings  her  home  as  safe  as  I  brought  her 
out  of  the  storm  we  may  be  thankful,"  he  mut- 
tered, as  he  also  turned  out  at  the  gates  and 
watched  them  along  the  road. 

Refugio  was  inconsolable  at  her  loss,  and  the 
elder  women  gave  her  the  good  advice  to  lock  up 
her  sefiorita's  rooms  and  to  come  and  stay  with 
them  during  her  absence. 

The  day  passed  with  no  cessation  of  the  rain, 
and  the  mountains  were  hidden  by  the  low  hang- 
ing clouds.  The  wind  drove  the  rain  in  blinding 
sheets  against  the  house,  while  here  and  there,  in 
the  snug  kitchen  and  other  rooms,  drops  filtered 
down  through  the  roofs  and  made  small  pools  on 
the  floor. 

Part  of  the  afternoon  was  occupied  by  Petra 
and  Refugio  in  securely  covering  Mary's  books 
and  furniture  against  the  dampness,  and  when 
finally  they  lay  down  to  sleep,  it  was  with  the 
ardent  hope  that  Jose  and  Mary  were  as  safely 
housed  as  they,  in  Don  Ignacio  Vera's  house  in  I,a 
Providencia,  more  than  thirty  miles  away. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  RIDE  TO  LA  PROVIDENCIA. 

Thus,  man  is  made  equal  to  every  event.  Pie  can  face  danger  for 
the  right.  A  poor,  tender,  painful  body,  he  can  run  into  flame  ot 
bullets  or  pestilence  with  duty  for  his  guide. — Emerson, 

FOR  many  miles  the  road  to  L/a  Providencia  lay 
across  the  plain  and  there  was  nothing  to 
relieve  the  monotony  of  the  ride.  The  two  trav- 
elers, followed  at  a  short  distance  by  Josh's  servant, 
Antonio,  galloped  along,  for  the  most  part  silently 
and  yet  not  uncomfortably.  Both  were  warmly 
dressed  beneath  their  rubber  outer  garments,  and 
though  it  rained  steadily  there  was  little  wind  and 
the  air  was  fresh  and  invigorating.  The  prairie 
stretched  unbroken  by  the  least  rise  of  ground  to 
the  foot  of  the  hills  bounding  the  plain  on  three 
sides.  Here  and  there  clumps  of  the  thorny 
mesquite,  or  the  rough,  unsightly  trunk  of  the 
Spanish  dagger,  with  its  head  of  thick,  spiked 
leaves,  broke  the  monotonous  level.  The  tufted 
prairie  grass  lay  weather-beaten  and  sodden  from 
the  rain,  and  not  a  prairie  dog  showed  his  curious 
little  head  above  his  burrow  as  the  horses  galloped 
by.  Only  the  splashing  of  the  rain  and  an  occa- 
sional snort  from  the  horses  broke  the  silence  of 
the  vast,  open  space  around  them. 
188 


THE  RIDE  TO  LA  PROVIDENCIA.  189 

Soon  after  one  o'clock  the  stunted  pines  fringing 
the  hills  in  front  took  more  definite  shape,  and  the 
ground  began  to  rise  imperceptibly,  until  the 
horses  slackened  their  pace  and  began  to  breathe 
more  heavily.  Jose  then  pointed  to  his  com- 
panion a  dark  spot  which  at  that  distance  looked 
like  a  large  stone  resting  against  a  tree,  but  which 
was  in  reality  a  house,  and  calling  Antonio,  he 
bade  him  ride  quickly  on  ahead  and  inform  the 
people  of  the  inn  that  travelers  were  coming. 

"  We  shall  soon  find  a  fire  and  something  hot 
to  drink,  senorita,"  he  said,  "and  you  may  rest 
for  an  hour.  There  are  women  there  who  will 
look  after  you." 

"  And  we  shall  eat  Raquel's  lunch  with  good 
appetites,  I  fancy,"  Mary  replied,  "for  I  am  very 
hungry." 

Still  ascending  the  road,  which  was  rough  and 
rocky,  they  came  after  ten  minutes  more  of  riding 
to  the  rude,  thatched  house,  and  Mary  was  soon 
sitting  on  a  stool  beside  a  fire  built  in  the  center 
of  the  largest  room,  while  the  smoking  horses 
were  led  to  shelter  and  carefully  tended  by  Jose" 
and  the  servant. 

Perhaps  such  a  sight  had  never  before  dawned 
upon  the  three  or  four  Mexican  women  as  met  their 
eyes  when  they  gathered  about  their  guest,  help- 
ing her  off  with  her  wet  things.  And  when  she 
sat  on  the  stool  warming  her  feet  by  the  fire,  with 
her  damp  yellow  hair  loosened  and  rippling  over 


190  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

her  shoulders,  their  delight  was  boundless.  One 
stood  at  her  side  and  felt  of  her  dress,  exclaiming 
loudly  and  describing  to  the  others  the  softness  of 
the  texture  of  the  flannel ;  another  hung  the  damp 
rubber  covering's  on  a  line  and  busied  herself  in 
wiping  them  dry  with  a  cloth  ;  while  a  third  knelt 
beside  her  and  begged  to  be  allowed  to  unbutton 
her  shoes,  so  that  she  might  warm  her  feet  with 
more  ease. 

"She  is  like  the  picture  of  the  virgin  in  the 
church  at  La  Providencia,"  declared  one  woman. 
"  Her  red  cheeks  and  blue  eyes  and  hair  of  gold 
are  exactly  like  the  blessed  mother's.  Are  you 
married,  sefiorita  ? ' '  she  asked,  looking  curiously 
into  Mary's  face,  glowing  from  the  biting  air  of 
the  mountains. 

"No,"  Mary  replied  ;  " I  am  not  married." 

"And  where  can  you  be  going  in  this  flood 
of  rain?  "  asked  another,  "and  with  young  Jose* 
of  San  Bernabe'!" 

"  We  are  going  to  see  his  cousin  in  La  Provi- 
dencia, who  is  very  sick  and  has  sent  for  me.  I 
know  something  about  sickness  and  medicine,  and 
she  is  my  friend,  so  I  was  glad  to  go,  and  Jos£  was 
the  only  one  who  could  come  with  me.  The  ser- 
vant who  brought  me  the  message  from  La  Prov- 
idencia lost  his  way  last  night  and  was  nearly  ex- 
hausted when  he  reached  San  Bernabe',  so  we  left 
him  behind." 

"  Well,  the  Veras  know  these  mountains  as  well 


THE  RIDE  TO   LA  PROVIDENCIA.  191 

as  the  wild  things  up  here,  and  Jose*  particularly  ; 
last  year  he  was  always  passing  here,  hunting  with 
his  dogs,  or  going  over  to  see  his  uncle's  family  in 
the  town.  He  has  not  been  over  so  often  lately, 
as  we  were  saying  last  night,  my  husband  and  I." 

So  they  chattered  on,  while  one  returned  to  her 
tortilla  making,  and  another  to  a  pot  of  soup 
boiling  over  the  coals,  and  Mary  took  a  comb 
from  her  pocket  and  combed  and  braided  her 
heavy  hair  into  one  long  braid  which  would  resist 
the  wear  and  tear  of  hard  riding  better  than  the 
coil  with  which,  in  her  haste,  she  had  started  out. 

A  smoking  pile  of  tortillas  was  ready  by  the 
time  Jose  entered  and  they  began  a  somewhat 
hurried  lunch,  as  there  seemed  signs  of  an  increase 
in  the  storm,  and  Jose  was  anxious  to  be  off. 

"  You  had  better  stay  here  till  to-morrow 
morning,"  advised  one  of  those  who  had  drifted 
in  one  by  one  to  have  a  look  at  the  young 
foreigner  with  the  white  skin  and  "hair  of  gold." 
"  It  will  be  a  wild  night,  and  we  are  a  good  four 
hours'  ride  now  from  the  town,  even  in  good 
weather,  and  it  will  be  dark  in  the  pass  before 
that." 

"No,"  returned  Jose",  "our  horses  will  make  it 
in  three  hours  more,  for  they  are  still  fresh,  and 
the  short  cut  over  the  ledge  will  give  us  quite  an 
hour's  gain." 

"  Aha  !  That  shows  you  have  not  been  over 
this  road  since  last  winter,  Jose  miof"  said 


192  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

one  of  the  men.  ' '  Did  you  not  know  that  the 
last  storm  in  the  spring  finished  up  your  short 
cut  ?  And  a  bad  job  it  has  been  for  us  too.  Big 
boulders  were  washed  away  from  the  cliffs  just 
below  the  first  curve  in  the  narrow  path,  you 
remember  how  it  was  ?  and  the  whole  path  and 
half  the  mountain-side  went  down  with  them." 

"  Indeed  !  "  Jose  replied,  and  an  expression  of 
doubt  came  into  his  face  as  he  looked  at  Miss 
Summers,  trim  and  neat  again  now,  and  content- 
edly munching  toasted  tortillas  with  her  cheese. 
"  Perhaps  then,  senorita,"  he  suggested,  in  his  bro- 
ken English,  which  she  perfectly  understood, 
though  the  others  did  not,  "  you  had  better  remain 
here  to-night.  They  have  a  small  room,  bare  and 
dirty  enough,  but  it  is  sometimes  used  for  trav- 
elers, and  I  will  watch  all  night  and  see  that  all 
is  safe.  There  may  be  danger  in  going  on  if  we 
have  to  go  by  the  lower  river  road. " 

"  Let  us  go  on,  Jose","  she  replied.  "  Anything 
would  be  better  than  staying  here."  And  she 
thought  shudderingly  of  what  might  be  her  ex- 
periences during  a  night  in  the  miserable  little  den 
at  her  disposal.  It  would  not  be  possible  to  lie 
down  to  sleep  in  that  house,  and  to  spend  the  long 
winter  night  in  the  dark  in  utter  wakefulness 
would  be  unbearable.  A  wild  ride,  even  through 
the  bitter  cold  and  rain,  seemed  preferable  and  she 
was  thoroughly  wanned  and  refreshed  now  that 
lunch  was  over. 


THE    RIDE  TO  LA  PROVIDENCIA.  193 

"  If  I  was  alone,"  proceeded  Jose",  thoughtfully, 
while  the  Mexicans  stared  with  open  mouths  at 
the  two  conversing  in  the  unknown  tongue,  "  I 
should  certainly  keep  on.  For  I  know  the  road, 
as  I  have  said.  Are  you  sure  that  you  are  rested 
enough  and  that  you  can  bear  four  or  perhaps  five 
hours  more  in  the  storm  ?  For  it  is  getting  to  be 
a  storm  now. ' ' 

"Yes,"  replied  Mary,  eagerly,  u  I  can  bear  any- 
thing, except  to  stay  in  this  place  all  night.  The 
horses  can  swim,  and  I  too  can  swim,"  she 
added,  "  or  climb,  or  do  anything  better  than  sit 
still." 

"  The  senorita  prefers  to  keep  on,  friends,"  said 
Jose",  at  length,  in  Spanish  to  the  Mexicans.  "  My 
cousin  is  very  ill,  and  she  does  not  wish  to  lose  a 
moment  on  the  way.  As  I  am  her  escort,  I  must 
do  as  she  wishes,  although  I  have  advised  her  to 
stay  here.  And  now,"  rising  and  taking  his  hat, 
"  please  help  her  on  with  her  wraps,  if  they  are 
quite  dry,  and  we  must  start  off  again,  as  it  will 
soon  be  dark.  Are  the  candles  dry,  Antonio,  and 
the  lanterns  all  right?  " 

They  went  out  together  with  the  men,  while  Mary 
again  arrayed  herself  in  traveling  attire.  In  a  few 
moments  the  inn  was  left  behind  and  the  narrow 
defile,  leading  over  the  hill  and  down  into  a  nar- 
row valley  beyond,  was  echoing  to  the  hoof  beats 
of  the  three  horses.  Their  progress  was  slow 
here,  as  the  ground  was  slippery  and  uncertain, 

N 


194  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

and  Antonio  was  sent  on  ahead  to  explore  the  road 
in  front. 

The  change  was  great  from  the  open  prairie  to 
the  wooded  slopes  of  the  defile,  and  they  seemed 
to  feel  the  rain  less,  although  it  grew  bitterly  cold. 
The  valley  which  they  were  approaching  was 
hardly  more  than  a  pass  for  the  river  between  the 
mountains,  with  the  road  on  one  side.  Here  and 
there  were  curves  of  the  river  bed  which  gave 
patches  of  lowland  in  between  the  cliffs,  and 
here  corn  and  other  grain  were  planted  in  their 
season.  In  the  summer  the  tinkle  of  cow  or  sheep 
bells  was  heard  along  the  banks  of  the  river,  or 
on  the  mountain-sides  above,  nearest  the  fords ;  but 
now,  fords  and  lowland  meadows  alike  were  no 
more,  as  Jose*  more  than  suspected,  and  the  water, 
though  not  yet  deep,  was  rushing  and  very  cold. 
The  roaring  of  the  stream  could  be  heard  at  in- 
tervals, as  they  proceeded,  and  Jose*  began  to  talk, 
to  prevent  the  tell-tale  sound  from  reaching  Mary's 
ears. 

"Do  you  know,  senorita,  that  an  English- 
man was  killed  several  years  ago  in  the  house 
we  just  left?  The  people  who  lived  there  then 
have  all  died  or  gone  away,  except  the  old  man 
you  saw  sitting  in  the  shed  outside.  He  is  an 
idiot  now,  and  they  say  that  it  was  he  who  did 
the  deed.  But  who  knows  ?  " 

"  Why,  Jose",  you  wanted  me  to  spend  the  night 
there." 


THE  RIDE  TO  LA  PROVIDENCIA.  195 

' '  You  would  have  been  as  safe  there  as  in  your 
own  room  in  my  father's  house,  senorita.  Do 
you  believe  that  I  would  have  proposed  such  a 
thing  to  you  if  it  had  been  unsafe?  I  believe 
they  are  honest  people  living  there  now,  although 
they  are  rough  and  ignorant.  And  I  told  you 
that  I  would  watch  all  night.  But  about  the 

Englishman :  He  was   going  from   S to   La 

Providencia,  where  he  expected  to  make  an  invest- 
ment in  cattle  for  stocking  a  ranch  which  he  had 
lately  bought,  and  the  people  ill  the  inn  must 
have  known  that  he  carried  money  about  his  per- 
son somewhere,  for  he  had  talked  of  his  plans 
quite  freely  before  retiring.  His  two  servants 
went  off  to  the  shed  to  sleep,  and  when  one  of 
them  went  to  call  their  master  the  next  morning, 
he  found  him  stabbed  through  the  heart  and  his 
clothing  torn  to  pieces,  in  what  must  have  been  a 
fearful  struggle,  for  the  Englishman  was  a  giant." 

"Were  not  the  people  of  the  house  arrested?  " 
Mary  asked. 

"In  those  days,  and  off  here  in  the  mountains, 
things  were  not  done  that  way.  No  one  heard  of 
it  for  a  long  while,  for  the  servants  took  them- 
selves off  when  they  found  their  master  dead,  per- 
haps fearing  that  the  murder  would  be  laid  upon 
them.  And  the  Englishman's  horse  went  off  with 
them.  That  is  the  tale  that  got  about  when 
inquiries  began  to  be  made  about  the  missing 
man.  Then  the  house  back  there  was  closed  for 


196  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

a  long  time,  and  no  one  knew  where  the  people 
had  gone.  Finally,  the  old  man  reappeared.  He 
was  found  alone  in  the  house  by  a  party  of  travel- 
ing Mexicans,  who  were  camping  near  by,  and  as 
he  was  nearly  starving,  they  fed  him  and  gave 
him  a  blanket  to  sleep  in.  He  would  not  let  them 
leave  him  after  that,  and  finally  they  decided  that 
it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  stay  and  re-open  the 
inn,  and  there  they  have  been  ever  since.  The 
old  man  is  cared  for  by  them,  and  is  harmless 
now,  as  you  saw,  with  his  shaking  limbs  and 
blindness." 

"  I  could  not  have  endured  to  spend  the  night 
there,"  Mary  said,  when  Jose"  had  finished  his  tale. 
UI  suppose  the  poor  man  was  murdered  in  that 
very  room  where  you  wanted  me  to  sleep." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  replied  Jose,  calmly, 
"  because  it  is  a  back  room  and  farther  from  the 
road  than  the  others.  But  you  see  I  should 
have  lain  across  your  doorway  outside,  and  my 
pistols  are  all  right,"  he  added,  clapping  his  hand 
to  his  belt. 

"  Do  not  talk  any  more  about  such  dreadful 
things,  Jose","  said  Mary.  "Only  listen  to  the 
wind  in  the  pines  overhead  ;  it  is  like  music,  it  is 
music  !  How  sweet  the  air  is !  I  am  glad  to  see 
pine  trees  again,  although  they  are  not  tall  and 
straight  like  ours  at  home.  See,  these  look 
stunted,  and  are  so  crooked  and  thick.  What  is 
that  roaring,  Jose  ?  "  she  asked,  as  her  companion 


THE  RIDE  TO   LA   PROVIDENCIA.  197 

remained  silent  and  seemed  straining  his  ears  to 
listen. 

"We  are  coining  near  the  river  now.  It  is 
about  a  mile  from  here,  and  the  noise  you 
hear  is  the  water,  swollen  by  the  rain." 

"  A  mile  off,  and  the  noise  so  distinct !  The 
water  must  be  high  indeed." 

"Are  you  afraid?"  Jose  asked,  bending  nearer 
to  look  at  her  face,  for  it  was  growing  dark 
already. 

"  No,  I  am  not  afraid,"  she  replied,  bravely, 
"  though  it  is  getting  a  little  dismal,  I  must  con- 
fess. What  a  lonesome  road  this  is  !  Does  no  one 
ever  pass  this  way  ?  " 

"Certainly,"  he  returned,  glad  to  turn  her 
thoughts  in  another  direction.  "If  you  had 
come  along  here  earlier  in  the  fall  you  would 
have  passed  droves  of  donkeys  loaded  with  wood 
or  charcoal ;  and  ranchmen  are  constantly  trav- 
eling along  this  road,  as  it  is  the  direct  communi- 
cation between  all  the  ranches  on  the  plain 
behind  us  and  La  Providencia.  You  would 
not  have  lacked  company  then,  but  I  do  not  know 
that  you  would  have  been  any  safer." 

Antonio  now  came  toward  them  out  of  the  dusk, 
and  reported  the  road  ahead  all  right  to  the  river 
bank. 

"And  farther  on,  does  it  seem  to  be  under 
water  ?  "  Jose  asked. 

"  As  far  as  I  could  see,  it  was  not,"  replied  the 


ig8  A    MEXICAN   RANCH. 

boy.  "  I  only  rode  a  short  distance,  and  though 
the  mud  is  deep,  and  there  is  much  water,  the 
river  does  not  seem  to  be  out  of  banks." 

"Light  the  lanterns,  now,"  ordered  Jose,  "and 
tie  one  on  each  side  of  your  saddle  and  ride  on, 
just  in  front  of  us.  Do  not  go  beyond  hearing." 

In  the  pause  during  the  lighting  of  the  candles 
in  the  lanterns,  Mary  looked  at  her  watch  and 
found  that  it  was  but  five  o'clock.  She  exclaimed 
at  this  discovery,  and  thought  that  the  watch 
must  have  stopped,  but  found  that  it  was  ticking 
busily. 

"It  will  be  lighter,"  said  Jose",  "when  we  get 
out  of  this  defile.  The  trees  and  the  clouds 
together  cause  the  darkness.  Now,  be  careful  as 
we  descend  here,  for  the  road  is  very  steep." 

' '  Are  we  getting  back  to  the  level  of  the  San 
Bernabe  plain?"  asked  Mary,  breathlessly,  as  the 
horses,  with  a  slip  down  the  last  rocky  slope,  at 
last  came  out  of  the  shadow  and  started  toward  the 
river. 

"No,"  replied  Jose*  ;  "did  you  not  notice 
how  much  longer  the  ascent  was  than  the  descent  ? 
The  river  here  is  eight  or  nine  hundred  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  plain,  which  it  does  not  reach  for 
fifty  miles  farther  on.  It  is  not  much  of  a  river, 
after  all,"  he  went  on  after  a  while,  consolingly, 
as  the  roar  increased  and  they  came  in  sight  of 
the  water.  "I  have  ridden  here  many  a  time 
when  the  bed  was  entirely  dry,  except  a  little 


THE   RIDE   TO   LA   PROVIDENCIA.  199 

stream  in  the  very  center,  where  I  would  walk 
my  horse  to  cool  his  feet.  It  is  never  deep,  and 
only  a  misstep  now  of  one  of  the  horses  could 
cause  an  accident.  We  do  not  enter  the  water  at 
all  if  the  road  is  dry,  until  we  come  to  what  is 
called  the  Devil's  Gate,  where  for  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  the  pass  is  so  narrow  that  there  is  no  room  for 
the  road. " 

"The  water  will  be  deep  there,  then?"  ques- 
tioned Mary,  quickly. 

"Then  we  can  swim,"  returned  Jose",  who  had 
already  been  revolving  this  possible  contingency 
in  his  mind. 

Meantime  the  rain  did  not  cease  for  a  moment, 
and  some  had  found  an  ingress  beneath  Mary's 
hood,  so  that  she  was  growing  damp  and  uncom- 
fortable. The  wind,  also,  was  strong  down  the 
gulch,  and  the  horses  began  to  show  signs  of 
fatigue. 

They  plodded  on,  however,  without  mishap, 
guided  after  a  while  entirely  by  Antonio's  lan- 
terns, while  even  the  rushing  water  a  few  feet 
away  was  invisible. 

At  six  o'clock,  the  mountain  sides  began  to 
close  in  on  each  side  of  the  stream,  and  the  cliffs 
loomed  dark  and  forbidding  ahead.  Jose*  guided 
Mary's  horse  to  the  partial  shelter  of  an  over- 
hanging rock,  and  putting  a  pistol  into  her  hand, 
bade  her  wait  there  for  a  few  moments  with  An- 
tonio while  he  went  forward  to  inspect  the  road. 


200  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

He  took  one  of  the  lanterns  with  him  and  urged 
his  unwilling  horse  into  the  darkness. 

After  what  seemed  to  Mary  an  hour  of  waiting, 
his  lantern  again  flashed  across  the  puddles  in  the 
road,  and  he  rode  up  to  the  two  under  the  rock, 
dripping  with  water,  which  could  not  be  all  rain. 

''It  does  not  matter,"  he  declared,  shrugging 
his  shoulders  at  Mary's  exclamation  of  dismay. 
"  I  am  no  wetter  than  I  was  before.  But  really  I 
do  not  see  how  I  can  let  you  take  that  cold  bath. 
It  will  not  take  the  horses  off  their  feet,  however, 
if  they  do  not  step  into  any  holes  or  stumble  over 
the  rocks  in  the  water." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  she  queried,  as 
he  dismounted  and  approached  her.  "  See,  poor 
Grisito  looks  ready  to  drop,"  as  the  gray  horse 
hung  his  head  and  trembled. 

"  Yes,  he  is  a  little  blown  ;  but  the  worst  will  be 
over  when  we  get  into  the  road  again.  Devil's 
Gate  is  just  ahead,  and  a  mile  beyond  we  shall  see 
the  lights  of  L,a  Providencia.  Now,  I  am  going 
to  shorten  your  stirrup,  and  tuck  your  skirts  well 
up  about  the  saddle.  One  foot  will  be  wet  what- 
ever we  do." 

"Why  did  you  leave  me  your  pistol,  Jose*?" 
she  asked,  as  he  unbuckled  and  re-buckled  the 
straps. 

"Because  I  did  not  know  how  it  would  be  on 
there  ahead,  and  if  I  had  not  come  back,  you  and 
Antonio  would  have  had  to  ride  back  to  the  inn. 


THE  RIDE  TO  LA  PROVIDENCIA.  2OI 

I  thought  it  best  for  you  to  have  the  pistol ;  now, 
however,  I  will  relieve  you  of  it." 

Mary  silently  took  up  the  weary  road  again, 
wondering  how  it  was  possible  that  this  simple 
countryman  was  possessed  of  such  instinctive 
chivalry  of  manner  and  pure  goodness  of  heart 
when  his  only  education  or  culture  had  been  that 
of  the  ranch  school,  followed  by  heterogeneous 
reading  of  such  books  as  he  could  find  between 
the  city  of  S and  La  Providencia. 

"It  is  not  from  books  nor  the  sciences,"  she 
thought,  "  that  one  gets  sweetness  of  nature  and 
purity  of  life.  His  mother  must  have  been  a 
superior  woman,  and  I  believe  that  he  was  her 
only  child.  Raquel  is  good  and  true,  and  Eduardo 
is  honest  and  interesting,  but  they  lack  the  gentle 
ways  that  are  natural  to  Jose*. ' ' 

Here  her  horse  set  his  foot  in  the  river,  follow- 
ing Jose  and  succeeded  by  Antonio. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

IN  THE  RIVER. 

Why  should'st  thou  fill  to-day  with  sorrow 
About  to-morrow, 

My  heart  ? 

One  watches  all  with  care  most  true, 
Doubt  not  that  he  will  give  thee  too 

Thy  part. 

it  seemed  to  grow  colder  and  darker. 
-  The  horses  bravely  pushed  on  through  the 
icy  water  which  was  not  too  deep  to  prevent  them 
from  keeping  on  their  legs.  Occasionally  they 
stumbled  upon  the  loose  rocks  in  the  bed  of  the 
stream,  but  they  progressed  for  twenty  minutes  or 
more  without  much  difficulty,  although  Mary  felt 
her  mare's  labored  breathing  quiver  through  her 
whole  body  as  she  stretched  her  head  out  above 
the  level  of  the  water  to  keep  mouth  and  nose  from 
filling.  Mary  had  long  ago  lost  the  sensation 
of  wet  and  cold  in  her  lower  limbs,  and  was  anx- 
iously longing  to  put  an  end  to  their  prolonged 
exposure. 

Jose"  had  just  turned  his  head  to  shout  above  the 
noise  of  the  water,  "  We  are  almost  at  the  shore- 
road  again,"  when  "Black  Jane"  stumbled  sud- 
denly, fell  upon  her  knees  and  then  rolled  over  be- 


IN  THE  RIVER.  203 

neatli  the  water.  She  had  planted  her  fore  feet  in 
a  hole,  and  was  prevented  by  the  current  of  .the 
stream  from  regaining  her  footing.  Antonio  and 
Jose  were  on  the  spot  in  a  moment,  startled  by  the 
splash,  and  Antonio  soon  had  the  mare  on  her  feet 
again,  while  Jose  groped  for  Maty,  who  seemed 
lying  at  the  bottom  of  the  stream.  The  spirit  had 
been  so  effectually  wearied  and  chilled  out  of  the 
poor  animal  that  she  had  hardly  struggled  after  the 
first  vain  effort  to  recover  herself,  and  Mary's  life 
was,  perhaps,  due  to  her  passiveness.  She  had  fallen 
from  the  saddle  when  "  Black  Jane  "  fell,  as  she 
had  taken  her  foot  from  the  stirrup  to  keep  it  out 
of  the  water,  and  her  seat  was  necessarily  insecure. 
In  the  few  seconds  before  Jose  could  get  to  her, 
his  heart  seemed  to  stand  still  with  terror,  for  he 
could  not  see  that  she  made  any  effort  to  extricate 
herself,  and  when  he  lifted  her  from  the  water  she 
was  quite  unconscious.  Antonio  led  the  horses  to 
the  shore,  a  few  yards  on  ahead,  while  Jose  waded 
through  the  water  up  to  his  armpits  with  Maty  in 
his  arms.  He  laid  her  down  upon  the  side  of  the 
road  under  a  gnarled  old  pine  tree,  which  jutted 
out  from  the  steep  mountain  side  above,  and  sent 
Antonio  forward  to  the  first  house,  a  half-mile 
ahead,  where  the  town  suburbs  began.  The  boy 
was  to  have  a  bed  prepared  and  to  bring  some  one 
who  should  aid  them  in  carrying  Maty  to  the 
house.  The  hoof-beats  had  scarcely  passed  out  of 
hearing,  however,  when  partial  consciousness  re- 


204  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

turned  to  Mary,  and  as  if  in  a  dream  she  heard, 
above  the  roar  of  the  water  and  the  moaning  of 
the  wind  in  the  trees,  the  sound  of  a  voice  in  pas- 
sionate prayer : 

"God  in  heaven,1'  pleaded  the  voice,  "give 
back  her  life  !  Do  not  let  it  be  that  I  have  killed 
her  ;  thou  knowest  if  I  have  done  wrong  in  loving 
her,  but  thou,  Jesus,  will  pardon  me,  for  thou 
knowest  how  sweet  and  tender  she  was.  Oh,  my 
God,  I  will  promise  to  serve  thee,  and  to " 

"Jose,"  said  a  feeble  voice,  and  he  was  by  her 
side  in  a  moment. 

"  Senorita  !  "  he  exclaimed  in  an  ecstasy  ;  "  sen- 
orita  mia,  vida  de  me  corazon  !  "  * 

"  I  am  very  cold,  Jose".  Let  us  go  somewhere 
to  the  fire — to  a  house." 

"If  I  only  had  some  spirits,"  he  murmured, 
holding  her  cold  hands  and  chafing  them  with  his 
own  colder  ones. 

"  There,  in  my  bag — a  bottle  !  "  she  faltered. 

He  sprang  to  Black  Jane's  side,  found  the  bag 
by  the  light  of  the  lantern,  and  again  was  at 
Mary's  side  with  the  flask  and  poured  a  small 
quantity  into  the  little  cup  fitted  upon  the  flask. 

After  drinking  some  she  sat  up  and  looked 
around  at  the  wild  scene  in  dismay.  The  lantern 
showed  Josh's  dripping  form  and  the  drooping 
figures  of  the  two  horses  standing  quietly  side  by 
side  near  by.  The  narrow  road  was  bordered  on 

1  My  sefiorita,  life  of  my  heart ! 


IN  THE  RIVER.  2O5 

one  side  by  the  stream  and  on  the  other  by  the 
precipitous  hillside,  and  she  could  see  no  sign  of 
the  lights  of  the  town. 

"  If  you  think  you  can  go  on  now,  sen- 
orita,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  will  bring  us  into  L,a 
Providencia.  But  rest  a  moment,  if  you  like, 
for  see,  it  is  scarcely  raining  at  all  now,  and  you 
are  some  what  sheltered." 

"  Did  you  get  me  out  of  the  water,  Jose  ?  I  do 
not  remember  very  well  what  happened." 

"  I  thought  you  were  dead,"  he  answered,  in  a 
low  voice,  after  explaining  her  fall  and  the  rescue ; 
"and  senorita,  if  you  had  died,  I  should  have 
died  also." 

"  I  think  I  must  have  fainted,"  she  interrupted 
him.  "  Several  times  I  felt  dizzy  when  I  saw  the 
water  rushing  by.  If  it  had  not  been  for  the 
faintness  I  should  have  been  able  to  extricate 
myself  and  get  up.  And  you  did  not  leave  me 
long  enough  in  the  water  to  drown. ' ' 

"I  cannot  tell  you  what  I  felt,  as  I  brought 
you  here  in  my  arms,"  he  continued,  not  heeding 
her  interruption.  "  I  thought  that  if  you  were 
dead  I  should  like  to  just  keep  on  walking  all 
my  life  through  the  dark  with  your  head  on  my 
shoulder,  and " 

"Jose,  hush!"  exclaimed  Mary,  sternly;  "I 
cannot  listen  to  such  words.  You  must  not  tell 
me  any  more,  for  to-morrow  you  will  be  yourself 
again  and  will  be  sorry  that  you  forgot  yourself." 


206  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"Have  I  forgotten  myself?  Ah,  yes,  there  is 
to-morrow,  and  we  must  think  of  to-morrow," 
bitterly. 

"I  can  go  on  now,"  Mary  said,  very  gently.  And 
she  arose  hastily  to  her  feet  without  seeing  the 
hand  he  extended  to  assist  her.  Jose  turned  wear- 
ily away  and  brought  the  horses  nearer,  and  soon 
Mary  was  in  her  seat  again.  As  he  turned  from 
her  to  mount  his  own  horse  the  rays  from  the 
lantern  fastened  to  his  saddle-bow  fell  upon  his 
face  and  showed  it  so  white  and  full  of  pain  that 
Mary  thought  he  must  have  been  hurt  in  rescu- 
ing her  or  the  horse  from  the  water. 

"Jose,"  she  exclaimed,  "what  is  the  matter? 
Are  you  hurt?  You  did  not  tell  me  !  " 

"  Hurt  ?  Yes  ;  but  not  as  you  mean,  senorita. 
Will  you  pardon  me  for  what  I  said?  If — if 
it  had  not  happened,  if  you  had  not  fallen,  you 
would  never  have  known.  You  will  forget  that 
I  ever  spoke  so  to  you,  will  you  not,  senorita?" 
He  was  standing  with  one  hand  upon  the  pommel 
of  his  saddle  and  his  eyes  cast  down  before  her 
pitying  look. 

"  Yes,  I  shall  forget,  and  so  will  you,  Jose*.  You 
were  frightened  and  did  not  know  what  you  were 
saying.  We  will  say  and  think  no  more  about  it." 

"You  will  think  no  more  about  it,"  Jose 
whispered  to  himself,  as  they  rode  drearily  on. 
"But  as  for  me,  my  dear  senorita,  you  know 
nothing  about  it." 


IN  THE  RIVER.  207 

All  this  had  occupied  very  little  time,  counted 
by  seconds,  however  much  of  life  was  lived  in 
those  few  moments  by  one  of  the  party.  So  after 
riding  along  wearily  enough  for  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  they  found  Antonio  trying  in  vain  to  induce 
the  men  of  the  nearest  house  to  set  out  to  the 
relief  of  the  unfortunate  travelers. 

"  It  is  only  a  trap, ' '  the  men  had  declared,  ' '  and 
we  will  not  be  deceived  by  your  tales.  To  be 
knocked  in  the  head  and  our  house  robbed  by  half 
a  dozen  brigands  would  be  a  fitting  job  for  a  night 
like  this,  but  we  decline  to  be  sharers  in  it." 

"Why  did  you  not  bring  the  young  lady  on 
your  horse  ?  "  a  woman  had  demanded. 

"She  is  drowned,  I  tell  you,  and  niy  master 
will  not  have  her  swung  like  a  dead  sheep  over 
the  pommel  of  the  saddle. ' ' 

Josh's  arrival  put  an  end  to  this  discussion,  and 
all  then  rode  on,  to  an  accompaniment  of  sur- 
prised exclamations  from  the  dwellers  in  the  cot- 
tage. 

The  travelers  were  clattering  up  the  steep  paved 
street  leading  into  the  town  when  the  church 
clock  struck  seven.  Here  and  there  a  feeble  lamp- 
light nickered  at  the  corners,  but  most  of  the 
houses  showed  dark  front  windows.  Just  when  it 
seemed  to  Mary  that  she  could  not  bear  one  step 
more,  Jose*  stopped  in  front  of  a  wide  door,  and 
before  alighting,  leaned  down  and  lifted  the  brass 
knocker  and  let  it  fall  gently. 


208  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"Here  we  are  at  my  aunt's  house,  senorita." 
He  spoke  to  her  for  the  first  time.  "  Now  you  will 
rest." 

The  doors  were  opened  and  a  servant  woman  ap- 
peared. Mary  was  landed,  wet,  tired,  and  miserable 
in  the  paved  hallway,  and  while  the  servant  went 
in  search  of  her  mistress,  Angela's  mother,  Mary 
had  time  to  realize  that  she  was  in  a  house  of  some 
wealth  and  comfort.  Jose"  led  her  to  a  seat  in 
the  corridor,  as  she  was  too  wet  to  enter  the  sala, 
and  a  hanging  lamp  showed  the  inner  court  full 
of  flowers,  while  a  little  fountain  played  in  the 
midst. 

Then  motherly  arms  embraced  her  and  a  rosy- 
cheeked  woman  stood  before  her,  whom  Jose* 
greeted  as  his  aunt. 

"You  have  come,"  she  cried,  joyfully,  then 
lowered  her  voice  ;  "  it  seems  a  miracle.  How 
was  it  possible  ?  " 

"  The  senorita  is  half-dead  with  cold  and  hun- 
ger," interrupted  Jose*.  "Tell  us  how  Angelita 
is,  and  then  the  Senorita  Maria  must  go  to  her 
room.  She  ought  not  to  see  Angela  to-night. " 

"  My  Angelita  is  just  the  same  as  she  was  last 
night  when  I  sent  the  man  off  to  you.  I  fear  she 
cannot  live,  my  beautiful  little  angel.  You  would 
not  know  her,  Jose",  with  all  her  beauty  gone. 
No,  the  senorita  need  not  see  her  to-night,  and  she 
will  not  know  that  she  is  here.  Poor  little  one," 
she  added,  taking  Mary's  limp  hand  in  her  own 


IN  THE  RIVER.  209 

fat,  warm  one.  "  Come,  let  me  put  you  to  bed, 
and  you  shall  have  something  hot  to  eat  and 
drink." 

"  And  Angela  ? "  Mary  asked  faintly,  for  she 
was  almost  exhausted  ;  "I  came  to  nurse  her.  She 
will  want  you." 

"  Her  papa  is  with  her,  and  besides  she  knows 
no  one.  To-morrow  you  shall  see  her  ;  you  could 
not  bear  it  now.  She  is  all  changed  now,  and  I 
cannot  believe  that  she  is  my  pretty  child." 

Mary  suffered  herself  to  be  led  off  to  her  room, 
and  to  be  cared  for  by  the  motherly  hands  that 
were  happy  in  giving  relief  to  her  who  was  suffer- 
ing thus  for  her  daughter's  sake.  Thoroughly 
wanned  and  fed,  she  soon  lay  wrapped  in  a  flannel 
dressing-gown,  to  be  ready  if  there  should  be  need 
of  her  during  the  night,  and  Dona  Isabel  stole 
from  the  room  hoping  that  she  would  sleep. 

The  coals  in  the  brazier,  which  had  been  brought 
into  the  room  to  take  a  little  of  the  chill  from  the 
air,  glowed  redly,  and  from  the  soft  light  diffused 
about  her  Mary  saw  all  the  details  of  the  clean, 
little  apartment.  White  curtains  hung  at  the 
window  and  the  single  brass  bedstead  was  draped 
with  white  hangings.  Two  or  three  chairs,  a 
little  washstand,  and  a  table  completed  the  furni- 
ture. Opposite  the  foot  of  the  bed  hung  a  soft 
engraving  of  the  Madonna  and  Child  ;  and  before 
this  swung  the  tiny  light  of  a  taper  held  in  a 
quaintly  shaped  little  vessel  of  crystal.  In  every 


2IO  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

room  in  the  house  there  were  just  such  little 
lights  burning  before  the  pictures  of  the  virgin, 
who  was  expected  to  be  propitiated  by  this  atten- 
tion and  perhaps  to  save  the  sick  girl's  life. 

Maty  sighed  as  she  turned  her  face  away  from 
the  little  point  of  light,  and  it  was  long  before 
her  aching  limbs  and  troubled  thoughts  would  let 
her  sleep. 

"Life  is  difficult!  "  she  murmured,  to  herself. 
"  Why  must  I  cause  distress  and  trouble  to  poor 
Jose,  when  I  only  wish  to  help  him  !  Then,  there 
is  Angela.  She  will  probably  die,  and  if  I  am  in 
the  house  they  will  all  say  it  is  my  fault."  And 
she  turned  restlessly  on  her  pillow.  "  Anyhow, 
I  am  glad  I  came.  I  shall  make  the  mother  my 
friend,  and  perhaps  Angela  will  live.  Poor  little 
Juan  !  Poor  Martina  ! ' '  she  sighed,  as  her 
thoughts  strayed  back  to  San  Bernabe  and  her 
work  there. 

Martina's  lonely  fate  was  rarely  out  of  her 
mind,  and  she  could  hardly  wait  for  the  woman's 
resentment,  stirred  up  by  old  Juana's  lies,  to  die 
away  before  seeking  her  again  and  cultivating 
the  friendship  of  the  now  desolate  mother. 

She  fell  asleep  amid  her  plans,  and  the  virgin 
mother  smiled  sadly  down  all  night  upon  the  little 
light  illuminating  her  face.  The  charcoal  burned 
to  ashes  and  the  rain  pattered  fitfully  upon  the 
roof,  but  the  young  missionary  did  not  wake  until 
morning. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

NURSING  SMALL-POX. 

A  child's  kiss 

Set  on  thy  sighing  lips  shall  make  thee  glad ; 
A  poor  man  served  by  thee  shall  make  thee  rich; 
A  sick  man  helped  by  thee  shall  make  thee  strong ; 
Thou  shall  be  served  thyself  by  every  sense 
Of  service  which  thou  renderest. 

— E.  B  Browning. 

A  NGEIyA  VERA  had  been  ill  for  eight  or  nine 
•**•  days  when  Miss  Summers  reached  La  Provi- 
dencia,  and  the  disease  was  then  at  its  height.  A 
more  revolting  sight  could  hardly  be  imagined 
than  met  her  eyes  when  she  entered  the  sick  room 
on  the  morning  after  her  arrival.  The  figure  on 
the  bed  bore  not  the  slightest  resemblance  to  the 
bright,  laughing  girl  who  had  danced  with  Cap- 
tain Daniel  only  two  weeks  before.  The  poor  face 
was  terribly  swollen  and  completely  covered  with 
the  sores,  which  had  taken  the  confluent  form,  and 
the  whole  surface  was  a  solid  abscess.  It  was  the 
same  with  the  hands,  which  were  twice  their  nat- 
ural size,  and  lay  helpless  and  discolored  upon  the 
bed-cover.  The  sparkling  black  eyes  were  closed, 
sealed  fast  by  the  swollen  lids,  and  the  lips  were 
blackened  and  parched  with  fever. 

211 


212  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

A  miserable  moaning  greeted  Mary's  ears  as  she 
hurried  to  the  bedside,  undaunted  by  the  sickening 
sight  before  her.  Angela  seemed  to  recognize  her 
voice,  as  the  delirium  had  decreased  during  the 
night ;  but  the  two  large  tears  which  issued  from 
the  veiled  eyes  and  rolled  slowly  down  her  cheeks 
were  the  only  signs  of  recognition  that  she  could 
give  at  first.  Her  friend  sat  beside  her  during  the 
long  hours  of  the  morning,  while  the  parents  de- 
clared that  Angela  had  not  been  so  quiet  for  several 
days,  and  the  hoarse  voice  ceased  its  plaintive  cry 
for  the  Senorita  Maria.  Once  during  the  morning 
the  swollen  lips  parted  and .  painfully  uttered  a 
word  or  two. 

" Maria,  agua  !    Ay  de  mi!  "  *  she  sighed. 

With  the  greatest  difficulty  she  was  able  to 
swallow  a  few  spoonfuls  of  water,  to  which  Mary 
added  a  little  stimulant,  as  her  pulse  was  very 
feeble.  So  the  day  passed  ;  there  was  not 
much  to  do,  except  to  give  light  nourishment  at 
intervals  and  moisten  the  fevered  lips  and  tongue 
with  cold  water,  which  the  sick  girl  took  greedily. 

Though  the  day  was  cloudy  and  dark,  Mary 
closed  the  shutters  inside,  leaving  only  enough 
light  to  enable  the  watchers  to  move  about  the 
room  ;  for  she  could  not  endure  the  thought  of 
the  pretty  face  being  spoiled  by  the  dreadful  scars 
so  often  seen  on  the  faces  of  the  Mexicans  who 
have  had  small-pox,  and  she  hoped  to  avoid  this 

1  "  Mary,  water !     Woe  is  me !  " 


NURSING  SMALL-POX.  213 

by  protecting  her  from  the  light.  Angela  was 
quiet  only  when  Mary  was  at  her  side,  and  after 
a  while  the  father  and  mother  stole  away  to  take 
a  much-needed  rest. 

Toward  dark,  Angela's  restlessness  grew  very 
great ;  the  fever  was  high,  and  she  moaned  con- 
tinually with  pain.  Mary's  voice  failed  to  soothe 
her,  and  at  length  sharp,  short  cries  of  pain  burst 
from  her  lips  as  she  moved  head,  hands,  and  feet 
in  her  agony. 

"  This  day  and  to-morrow  are  the  worst  days, 
Dona  Isabel,"  said  Mary;  "after  that  she  will 
begin  to  feel  better.  I  shall  try  to  relieve  it  as  I 
have  done  in  the  hospital  at  home,  although  I 
fear  that  her  restlessness  will  not  bear  it." 

They  were  sitting,  one  on  each  side  of  the  little 
bed,  where  the  wreck  of  so  much  perfect  health 
and  beauty  lay,  and  the  mother  gladly  urged  that 
Mary  would  do  what  she  thought  best. 

"  I  put  her  into  your  hands,  senorita ;  you  know 
better  than  we.  The  doctor  said  last  night  that 
she  would  not  live  through  the  day." 

"  Hush  !  "  whispered  Mary,  warningly,  as  the 
patient  made  a  harsh  sound  in  her  throat, 
and  tried  to  speak.  "  I  have  seen  people  get 
well  who  were  much  worse  than  Angela.  Be 
patient,  little  girl,"  she  said,  tenderly,  close  to 
her  ear.  ' '  After  a  day  or  two  more  you  will  be 
better,  I  am  sure. ' ' 

Then  she  prepared  a  quantity  of  soft  lint  soaked 


214  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

in  cold  water,  mixed  with  a  little  bi-chloride  anti- 
septic solution,  and  laid  this  gently  over  the  burn- 
ing hands  and  feet  and  head.  The  constant  wet- 
ting and  renewing  of  the  lint  kept  both  nurses 
busy  all  night,  but  they  had  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  most  of  the  restlessness  disappear  toward 
daybreak  from  the  relief  given  by  the  applications. 
The  next  three  or  four  days  there  was  a  con- 
stant struggle  to  alleviate  the  pain. 

Dona  Isabel  and  her  husband,  Don  Ignacio, 
watched  in  amazement  the  soft,  white  hands  of 
the  nurse  as  they  made  her  patient  comfortable, 
and  they  marveled  at  the  gentle  firmness  that  in- 
sisted on  obedience  where  the  indulgence  of  a 
whim  of  the  invalid  would  have  wrought  disastrous 
results.  Mary's  face  grew  pale  and  thin  with  this 
constant  nursing,  and  when,  about  ten  days  after 
she  first  entered  the  sick  room,  she  felt  that  she 
might  leave  her  patient  for  an  hour  with  Dona 
Isabel,  her  limbs  almost  refused  to  carry  her 
across  the  little  garden  in  front  of  the  house. 
Angela's  fever  was  not  gone,  but  it  was  subsiding 
by  degrees.  Her  piteous  little  mouth  had  learned 
to  smile  again,  and  as  her  eyes  opened  feebly  she 
could  once  more  see  her  mother's  face,  and  watch 
her  nurse  as  she  went  noiselessly  about  the  room. 
So  there  was  no  reason  now  why  Mary  should  not 
leave  her  for  a  while  and  go  out  in  the  fresh,  rain- 
washed  streets  for  a  breath  of  air. 

In  the  sunny  plaza  there  was  no  hint  of  the 


NURSING  SMALL-POX.  215 

cruel  plague  abroad  in  the  town,  only  perhaps 
there  were  fewer  children  than  there  would  have 
been  in  its  absence.  The  sun  was  shining  for  the 
first  time  since  the  beginning  of  the  rainy  season, 
nearly  two  weeks  before,  and  the  glossy  leaves  of  the 
orange  trees  glistened  in  the  sunlight.  It  was  too 
cold  to  be  still,  and  Mary  wrapped  her  shawl 
more  closely  about  her  as  she  crossed  the  plaza, 
and  walked  toward  the  church  on  the  other  side. 
She  had  thrown  a  black  shawl,  Mexican  fashion, 
over  her  head  and  shoulders,  and  thus  passed  un- 
noticed through  the  midst  of  strolling  workmen 
and  the  shawled  women  in  the  plaza.  She 
thought  she  saw  Jose  seated  under  a  tree  across 
the  garden,  but  he  did  not  look  up.  He  had  re- 
mained in  La  Providencia,  hovering  about  the 
house  and  the  door  of  the  sick-room,  but  he  had 
not  been  allowed  to  enter. 

Mary  had  scarcely  spoken  to  him,  for  all  her 
thoughts  had  been  occupied  with  her  nursing,  but 
several  times  she  had  seen  his  pale,  sad  face 
haunting  the  court  or  corridor. 

He  was  watching  her  now  from  beneath  the 
broad  brim  of  his  hat,  as  he  sat  muffled  in  a 
voluminous  cloak,  although  Mary  did  not  know  it. 

When  he  saw  her  enter  the  great  doors  of  the 
church  of  San  Antonio,  he  rose  and  followed  her, 
and  stood  with  other  men  about  the  entrance  to 
the  nave,  where  vespers  were  going  on.  He  won- 
dered a  little  at  seeing  her  enter  the  church,  then 


2l6  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

remembered  that  there  was  a  fine  painting, 
ascribed  to  Murillo,  in  one  of  the  chapels,  which 
all  foreigners  were  eager  to  see. 

The  truth  was  that  his  friend  was  not  thinking 
of  paintings,  nor  of  Murillo,  just  then.  An  instinct 
to  escape  from  the  crowded  plaza  and  street  had 
led  her  toward  the  church,  and  she  imagined  that 
by  passing  through  the  nave  she  would  be  able  to 
find  a  side  door  which  would  lead  her  out  upon 
the  back  street,  where  she  might  take  a  quiet 
walk,  unjostled  by  the  throng  abroad  at  this  hour 
in  the  plaza  and  about  the  church.  It  was  as  she 
had  thought.  A  side  door  opened  into  a  small 
paved  court  shadowed  by  the  great  buttresses  of 
the  outer  walls  of  the  building,  and  a  little  iron 
gate  opened  upon  a  narrow  street,  where  only  a  few 
children  were  at  play,  and  an  old  woman  or  two 
basked  in  the  sun.  This  was  what  she  wished  to 
find,  and  as  she  regained  strength  with  exercise, 
she  walked  happily  along,  enjoying  for  a  while 
the  freedom  from  the  sick-room.  She  could  not 
long  be  content  away  from  her  charge,  however, 
and  an  hour  had  not  passed  before  she  stood  again 
at  Angela's  side,  looking  down  upon  the  refresh- 
ing sleep  of  the  patient. 

"  She  will  get  well  now,  Dona  Isabel,"  she 
whispered  ;  "  only  let  her  sleep  like  that  as  much 
as  she  can.  Her  bath  refreshed  her  and  made  her 
drowsy.  She  must  have  one  every  day  now." 

"  Ah,  senorita,  we  do  not  know  how  to  bless 


NURSING  SMAI^-POX.  217 

you  for  what  you  have  done.  Words  of  thanks 
do  not  seem  to  touch  it  at  all.  Angela  will  help 
us  to  thank  you  when  she  is  well  again.  But  do 
you  think  she  will  have  lost  all  her  beauty? 
Will  the  scars  be  like  those  of  poor  Alicia,  next 
door?" 

"  I  hope  that  Angela  will  not  be  badly  scarred, 
Dona  Isabel.  A  good  deal  depends  upon  keeping 
the  room  dark,  and  wet  cloths  upon  the  face.  In 
a  few  days  now  the  fever  will  be  gone.  Then  she 
must  sit  up  and  take  more  nourishment  to  regain 
her  strength.  I  tell  you  this  now,  because  it  may 
be  necessary  for  me  to  return  to  San  Bernabe' 
while  this  better  weather  lasts.  I  must  speak  to 
Jose*  about  it  to-night." 

Meanwhile,  Jose  waited  at  the  church  door  in 
vain  for  Mary  to  reappear,  and  he  had  just  con- 
cluded that  she  had  left  the  church  by  a  side  door 
and  was  about  to  descend  the  steps  and  return  to 
the  house,  when  he  saw  approaching  the'  familiar 
figure  of  Don  Gregorio,  the  San  Bernabe  school- 
teacher. He  was  not  alone,  for  a  priest  was  walk- 
ing by  his  side  and  both  were  talking  earnestly. 
Jose"  remained  standing  in  his  place  when  he  saw 
that  the  men  were  approaching  the  church  door, 
but  he  drew  his  hat  farther  over  his  well-known 
features  and  muffled  his  cloak  closer  about  the 
lower  part  of  his  face.  Both  men  were  as  well 
known  to  him  as  was  his  own  father,  for  Don 
Gregorio  had  taught  him  to  read  long  years  ago, 


2l8  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

and  the  priest  was  no  other  than  Father  Esteban 
Lopez,  the  young  confessor  of  San  Bernabe'. 

As  they  mounted  the  steps  and  passed  Jose, 
he  heard  words  that  made  him  start  and  listen  and 
then  follow  them  as  they  entered  the  church.  All 
three  bared  their  heads  as  they  went  inside,  but 
only  the  schoolmaster  and  the  priest  knelt  and 
crossed  themselves.  Jose"  remained  standing  in 
the  dim  corner  beside  the  side  altar  before  which 
the  others  had  prostrated  themselves,  holding  his 
hat  in  his  hand,  and  with  the  lower  part  of  his 
face  still  muffled  in  his  cloak.  He  stood  so  near 
that  he  could  follow  the  conversation  still  carried 
on  between  the  two,  apparently  devoutly  occupied 
with  their  prayers.  A  beautiful  life-sized  figure 
in  wax  of  Saint  Joseph  presided  over  the  altar 
before  which  the  three  men  had  paused,  and  the 
mild,  pink  face  gazed  down  innocently  upon  the 
kneeling  figures  below.  On  one  pink  hand, 
raised  in  the  act  of  blessing,  a  splendid  diamond 
ring  glittered  and  the  gold  thread  in  the  magnifi- 
cent robe  draped  over  the  figure,  gleamed  in  the 
light  of  the  wax  candles  burning  on  the  altar. 

Jose*  stood  as  if  attentively  examining  the  figure 
of  the  saint  with  his  face  turned  away  from  the 
men,  but  his  ears  were  wide  open  to  what  they 
were  saying  and  his  face  grew  pale  and  his  blue 
eyes  flashed  with  anger  as  the  half-whispered 
words  continued.  After  a  little  a  fat  market 
woman  fell  upon  her  knees  by  the  side  of  the 


NURSING  SMALL-POX.  2 19 

padre  and  brought  an  untimely  end  to  the  con- 
versation of  the  two  friends.  Father  Esteban 
touched  his  companion's  sleeve,  and  both  arose 
hastily  as  if  caught  in  some  act  less  innocent  than 
repeating  a  few  paternosters  or  half  a  dozen  ave 
Marias  before  the  waxen  figure. 

Jose  did  not  follow  them  as  they  walked  hur- 
riedly up  the  nave  and  disappeared  in  the  side 
chapel  of  the  virgin,  at  the  right  of  the  high 
altar.  He  had  heard  enough  to  make  it  all  im- 
portant not  to  run  any  risk  of  recognition  by  the 
others,  and  he  was  glad  to  leave  the  oppressive, 
incense-laden  air  of  the  church  and  find  his  way 
out  into  the  street  amid  the  thronging  masses  of 
people  who  were  now  entering  the  church  by  the 
main  door.  He  hurried  across  the  plaza  toward 
his  uncle's  house,  and  when  he  stood  within  the 
tiled  corridor  extending  around  the  square  inner 
court,  he  sent  a  servant  to  call  Miss  Summers,  as 
he  had  something  of  importance  to  say  to  her. 
She  was  still  sitting  with  Dona  Isabel,  a  little  re- 
moved from  the  bedside  of  the  sleeping  girl,  and 
when  she  received  Josh's  message  she  immediately 
arose  and  went  out  into  the  corridor. 

"Sit  down  a  little  moment,  senorita,"  Jose 
began,  as  she  stood  before  him  waiting  for  what 
he  had  to  say  to  her.  "I  shall  not  keep  you 
long." 

Mary  was  shocked  to  see  the  change  that  had 
come  over  his  face  since  the  morning  when  they 


220  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

had  set  out  from  San  Bernabe",  so  sad  and  white  it 
had  grown,  and  there  were  dark  circles  about  the 
eyes,  which  hardly  looked  into  her  own  now. 
She  sat  down  on  one  of  the  iron  benches  near  the 
little  splashing  fountain  and  waited  for  him  to 
continue. 

"  I  thought  perhaps  you  might  have  some  mes- 
sage to  send  by  me  to  San  Bernabe', "  he  went  on, 
"  or  that  there  might  be  something  you  need  from 
there.  As  the  diligence  is  running  again  now, 
and  will  return  here  the  day  after  to-morrow,  Re- 
fugio  can  send  you  anything  you  may  wish.  I 
shall  have  to  return  to  the  ranch,  and  as  I  leave 
before  sunrise  to-morrow,  I  thought  it  best  to  give 
you  time  to  write  anything  you  may  need  to  say  to 
Petra  or  Refugio." 

' '  But  Jose",  can  you  not  stay  only  two  or  three 
days  longer  and  let  me  return  with  you  ?  Angela 
will  be  well  enough  then  for  me  to  leave,  and  I 
am  anxious  to  get  back  to  San  Bernabe'. ' ' 

4 '  I  am  sorry,  senorita,  but  I  really  must  go  to- 
morrow morning.  I  ought  to  have  gone  a  week 
ago.  I  was  not  needed  here,  I  know  very  well, 
but " 

"  I  know,"  interrupted  Mary,  as  he  hesitated, 
"  Angela  was  so  ill  and  you  wished  to  be  here  if 
she  died.  It  was  very  natural,  I  am  sure.  I  sup- 
pose, however,  that  if  you  must  go,  there  is  no 
reason  why  I  should  not  go  home  in  the  diligence 
in  a  day  or  two.  You  say  that  it  will  be  here  the 


NURSING  SMAIX-POX.  221 

day  after  to-morrow,  then  in  two  more  days  it  will 
return  to  San  Bernabe,  is  it  not  so  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Jose"  replied,  "  and  I  suppose  there  is  no 
reason,  as  you  say,  why  you  should  not  return  in 
that  way.  It  will  be  a  rough  trip,  much  worse 
than  on  horseback,  but  you  will  be  perfectly  safe 
and  it  will  be  all  by  daylight,  except  the  first  hour 
or  two.  If  you  decide  to  take  the  diligence  then, 
Antonio  can  return  with  me,  riding  Black  Jane 
and  leading  his  own  horse,  as  Jane  will  not  be 
led." 

"Well,  that  will  be  best  after  all,"  said  Mary, 
relieved,  for  she  had  dreaded  the  long  tdte-cl-t&te 
ride  with  Jose",  from  whom,  however,  she  knew  she 
had  nothing  to  fear,  beyond  a  severe  constraint  of 
manner.  "In  four  days  Angela  will  be  able  to  sit 
up  a  little,  and  will  need  me  no  longer.  What  is 
calling  you  home  so  suddenly,  Jose?"  she  asked, 
as  he  seemed  to  be  thinking  deeply.  ' '  Have  you 
had  news  from  the  ranch  ? ' ' 

"No,"  he  answered,  and  then  looked  quickly 
at  her,  as  if  he  meant  to  say  something  further. 
He  must  have  thought  better  of  it,  however,  for 
he  closed  his  lips  firmly  and  half  turned  away. 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  send  a  note  by  you  to 
Cuca,"  Mary  said,  as  she  turned  to  leave  him; 
"and  I  will  have  it  ready  by  bedtime.  I  must 
go  to  Angela  now,  as  she  will  be  waking  soon." 

"Wait  one  moment,  senorita,"  Jose  spoke  with 
an  effort ;  "  I  just  wanted  to  say  that  La  Providen- 


222  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

cia  is  not  just  like  our  ranch,  and  that  you — I — I 
mean  to  say  that  you  ought  not  to  go  about  alone 
here.  I  wish  you  would  promise  not  to  go  out  at 
all  while  you  remain  here,  unless  Dona  Isabel  goes 
with  you.  I  would  rather  you  did  not  go  out  at 
all.  "Believe  me,"  he  added,  earnestly,  "there 
is  reason  for  this,  although  it  looks  like  interfer- 
ence on  my  part. ' ' 

"  Why,  Jose,  how  can  you  be  so  foolish  ?  There 
can  be  no  harm  in  my  running  out  for  a  breath  of 
air  every  day,  now  that  Angela  is  so  much  better. 
But  if  Dona  Isabella  must  go  out  with  me,  it 
would  not  be  possible,  as  one  must  stay  with 
Angela." 

"  You  know  our  custom,  senorita,"  he  persisted  ; 
but  he  could  not  look  into  her  eyes  now,  knowing 
that  he  was  not  perfectly  frank,  and  yet  unwilling 
to  explain  the  real  motive  of  his  request. 

"Yes,  I  know  that  in  a  city  it  would  not  be 
proper  for  me  to  go  roaming  alone  through  the 
streets,  but  here  in  this  little  mountain  town  it  is 
very  different,  and  it  is  not  like  you,  Jose",  to  be 
foolish.  I  shall  do  nothing  improper,  you  may  be 
very  sure,  but  I  cannot  give  up  my  walks  out  of 
doors  whenever  there  is  opportunity  for  them.  I 
am  like  a  caged  bird,  and  would  die  indoors  with 
all  this  bright  sunshine  outside.'' 

"For  four  days  only?"  he  insisted,  much  to 
Mary's  surprise,  for  such  behavior  was  unlike 
Tose". 


NURSING  SMALIXPOX.  223 

"No,  indeed,"  she  cried,  impatient  at  last; 
"what  can  possibly  harm  me?  The  days  are 
past  when  one  is  '  given '  with  a  stiletto  in  broad 
daylight  011  the  street,  and  besides,  no  one  knows 
me  here." 

"The  whole  town  knows  you,"  he  replied; 
' '  every  one  knows  that  the  Protestant  teacher 
from  San  Bernabe  is  here,  and  that  she  is  nursing 
Don  Ignacio's  daughter,  Angela." 

"  I  am  sure  there  is  no  harm  in  that,"  she  re- 
torted. ' '  Jose,  what  do  you  mean  ?  I  arn  sure  you 
are  thinking  more  than  you  say." 

"  One  must  not  always  say  all  one  thinks,"  he 
replied,  oracularly  ;  "of  course,  you  will  do  as  you 
think  best  in  the  matter,  and  I  am  not  afraid  of 
any  personal  injury  to  yourself ;  if  there  were  dan- 
ger of  that  kind,  do  you  think  I  would  leave  you 
here  alone?  Unpleasant  things  may  be  said  to 
you,  that  is  all  ;  and  as  you  are  a  stranger  in  the 
town  your  walks  may  not  be  well  chosen.  For- 
give me,"  he  added,  "for  my  interference." 

Mary  went  wonderingly  away,  but  she  did 
not  feel  inclined  to  relinquish  her  liberty  in  the 
matter  of  walks  about  the  town. 

When  she  handed  her  note  for  Refugio  to  Jose* 
that  night,  she  gave  him  her  hand  in  farewell, 
and  sent  messages  of  love  to  Raquel  and  Petra. 

"  See,  Martina,  if  you  can,"  she  begged,  "and 
let  her  know  that  I  think  of  her  every  day." 

"Before  you  go,  senorita,"  Jose*   said,  with  a 


224  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

tremor  in  liis  voice,  "  I  want  to  ask  if  you  have 
quite  forgiven  me  for  all  that  happened — for  what 
I  said  to  you  the  night  we  came  here.  You  said 
you  would  forget  it ;  but  iny  memory  is  better 
than  yours,  and  I  cannot  rest  until  I  know  that  all 
is  forgiven.  I  have  felt  a  perfect  wretch  since 
then  for  taking  the  liberty  to  speak  as  I  did,  and 
I  cannot  forgive  myself." 

Jose's  words  had  really  been  very  few  on  the 
occasion  to  which  he  referred,  but  he  knew,  and 
she  knew;  the  full  meaning  of  what  he  had  said, 
and  she  had  not  been  able  to  put  out  of  her  mind 
the  agonized  accents  of  the  prayer  she  had  over- 
heard when  he  fancied  her  dying  or  dead.  With- 
out pretending  to  misunderstand  him,  therefore, 
she  looked  kindly  into  his  face  and  replied  : 

"We  all  make  mistakes  sometimes,  Jose",  and 
life  seems  very  difficult  at  times.  I  have  no  right 
to  judge  you  for  your  mistakes,  which  I  am  sure 
you  are  willing  to  correct  as  soon  as  you  are  able. 
I  do  forgive  with  all  my  heart  all  that  needs  for- 
giveness in  your  words  to  me  then,  and  I  am  sure 
that  you  will  forget  them  some  day,  and  that  we 
shall  be  good  friends  again.  We  are  friends  now, 
are  we  not  ?  " 

He  could  not  reply,  but  he  bent  over  the  hand 
she  offered  him  again  and  kissed  it.  Then  he 
hurried  away  to  his  own  room. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  PRIEST  AND  THE  SCHOOLMASTER. 

The  eternal  God  is  thy  refuge,  and  underneath  are  the  everlasting 
arms. — Deut.  33  :  27. 

CENOR  GREGORIO  NUftEZ,  the  boys' 
O  schoolmaster  in  San  Bernabe,  had  been  edu- 
cated at  the  Jesuit  College  of  San  Juan,  in  S . 

If  in  nothing  else  he  had  done  credit  to  his  black- 
robed  teachers  in  that  college,  his  stolid  zeal  for 
the  welfare  of  his  religion  had  proved  his  early 
connection  with  that  hot-bed  of  Roman  Catholic 
instruction.  Since  the  bright  winter  afternoons 
of  his  youth,  when  the  whole  school,  in  double 
file,  would  be  taken  to  walk  under  the  grand  old 
trees  in  the  park,  until  his  latter  years,  spent  for 
the  most  part  in  the  ranch  schoolroom,  he  had 
hated  foreigners,  and  Americans  especially,  with 
a  hatred  which  strengthened  with  his  years.  As 
a  young  man,  when  the  despised  missionaries' 

teaching  was  yet  new  in   S ,  there  was  no 

student  so  zealous  as  he  in  throwing  stones  against 
the  windows  of  the  little  Protestant  mission  room, 
nor  in  spitting  upon  the  doors,  and  even  the  per- 
sons, of  the  white-faced  foreigners.  As  a  mature 
man,  he  had  assisted  at  many  a  tumult  about  the 

p  225 


226  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

doors  of  the  chapel  where  the  pitifully  small  band 
of  worshipers  gathered  every  week  with  their 
heroic  leaders  ;  and  his  had  often  been  the  voice 
to  instigate  the  prolonged  hiss  or  contemptuous 
cursing  in  the  market-place,  directed  against  the 
well-known  person  of  some  Protestant  passing  by. 
Now,  in  his  lonely  life,  which  he  was  spending  in 
the  ranch  where  he  was  born,  his  enmity  took  a 
more  secret,  but  not  less  bitter,  form.  His  family 
was  all  gone,  for  the  bones  of  wife  and  child  lay 
in  a  back  corner  of  the  Campo  Santo,  in  S . 

In  these  days,  the  schoolmaster  was  putting 
forth  his  best  strength  upon  training  the  boys 
committed  to  his  care  in  all  the  sacred  teachings 
of  the  church,  and  however  slow  the  progress 
made  in  spelling  or  in  writing,  the  catechism  and 
the  legends  of  the  saints  were  most  faithfully 
taught. 

He  had  been  well  satisfied  with  the  slow  progress 
of  Protestantism  in  San  Bernabe  in  the  first  years 
after  the  formation  of  the  mission  church  there, 
and  he  had  been  Jesuit  enough  not  to  make  any 
marked  opposition  to  the  sowing  of  seed  which  he 
was  sure  must  soon  die  a  natural  death  in  an 
atmosphere  and  soil  so  entirely  foreign  to  its 
nature.  Still,  he  kept  his  eyes  wide  open  to  all 
the  doings  of  the  little  band  of  Baptists,  and  never 
omitted  a  secret  opportunity  of  casting  a  slight 
upon  one  of  its  humble  members  ;  yet  he  was  wily 
enough  to  keep  within  the  good  graces  of  Eduardo 


THE  PRIEST  AND  THE  SCHOOLMASTER.     227 

Vera,  upon  whom  depended  his  position  as  school- 
master. 

When  Miss  Summers  came  to  live  in  San 
Bernabe  his  eyes  opened  a  little  wider  and  grew  a 
little  more  observant,  for  he  soon  foresaw  what 
might  be  her  influence  with  the  women  of  the 
community.  The  correctness  of  this  prognostica- 
tion was  not  long  in  being  confirmed,  for,  as  has 
been  said,  the  congregations  in  the  mission  house 
had  increased,  the  Sunday-school  had  been  formed 
and  was  flourishing,  and  the  missionary's  name 
was  on  the  tongue  of  many  mothers  and  daughters, 
even  among  those  who  were  professed  Romanists, 
as  often  as  that  of  the  virgin  or  the  saints.  He 
was  closely  studying  the  religious  temperature 
of  the  community,  and  had  already  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  was  needful  for  Padre  Esteban 
to  hasten  his  footsteps  in  the  direction  of  San 
Bernabe,  when  the  news  spread  through  the 
ranch  that  the  chapel  dedicated  to  the  Virgin 
Mary  by  the  Sefiora  Vera  was  not  to  be  completed. 

Naturally  this  information  did  not  diminish  his 
suspicions  of  the  young  teacher's  influence  in  the 
family  of  Vera,  and  while  his  boys  were  incited  to 
louder  vociferation  in  the  schoolroom  opposite  the 
mission  house,  his  thoughts  were  busily  at  work 
and  his  plans  forming,  during  little  Juan's  illness 
and  the  days  of  storm  following.  His  school 
children  were  made  very  happy  one  morning, 
when  Mary  had  already  been  in  La  Providencia 


228  A   MEXICAN    RANCH. 

more  than  a  week,  by  the  announcement  that  their 
teacher  would  give  them  a  few  days'  holiday,  as 
he  needed  to  go  to  La  Providencia  on  business. 

The  old  mule  which  had  served  his  master  for 
many  years  on  the  Sunday  journeys  to  and  from 
mass  in  La  Bienvenida,  was  brought  out  of  his 
stall  that  same  morning,  and  by  night  Don 
Gregorio  was  safely  housed  in  the  house  of  his 
young  friend,  the  Padre  Bsteban. 

Although  the  priest  had  easily  perceived  that 
unusual  business  must  have  brought  the  man  so 
far  in  such  stormy  weather,  he  would  not  let  his 
visitor  open  his  heart  to  him  until  he  had  supped. 
Later,  while  both  men  sat  by  the  dismantled 
table,  smoking  one  cigarette  after  another,  the 
schoolmaster  told  his  tale. 

Father  Esteban  listened  from  beginning  to  end, 
without  once  interrupting  his  visitor  in  his  recital. 
It  was  not  the  first  time  that  news  had  come  to 
him  of  the  work  of  the  foreign  lady  in  San 
Bernabe'  ;  had  he  not  imposed  a  whole  day's  fast, 
with  fifty  aves,  morning  and  night  for  a  week, 
upon  pretty  little  Angela  Vera,  when  she  had  con- 
fessed to  him  her  attendance  at  the  mission  ser- 
vice? He  smiled  now  behind  his  plump  hand  as 
he  remembered  the  pretty  curl  of  her  lips,  and 
then  his  face  grew  grave  again  as  he  recollected 
the  danger  in  which  her  bright  young  life  had 
lain  since.  He  forced  attention  to  Don  Gregorio's 
last  words : 


THE  PRIEST   A.ND  THE  SCHOOLMASTER.    229 

"  One  of  two  things  must  and  will  happen. 
Either  this  thing  called  Protestantism  must  be 
stamped  out,  once  and  for  all,  in  San  Bernabe",  and 
that  right  soon,  or  all  the  men,  women,  and 
children  will  go  over  to  this  American  religion." 

"All?"  exclaimed  the  priest,  in  mocking  sur- 
prise. "  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  will  not 
long  be  able  to  resist  the  charms  of  this  young 
lady  ?  You  said  she  was  young,  I  believe." 

' '  For  shame,  Esteban,  to  speak  thus  to  me,  who 
am  as  firm  a  son  of  the  church  as  there  is  in  the 
whole  republic.  I  know  your  love  of  jesting,  sir, 
for  I  have  long  known  you ;  but  this  levity  now 
proves  that  you  do  not  understand  just  how  great 
has  been  the  change  in  the  ranch  since  you  left 
last  year." 

"  Forgive  me,  my  friend,"  returned  the  priest, 
quickly,  and  hastening  to  erase  the  impression  his 
words  had  given;  "and  I  think  I  understand,  per- 
haps even  better  than  you,  the  danger  of  the 
influence  of  such  a  person  as  this  senorita.  She 
will  turn  the  heads  at  least,  of  the  women,  as  well 
as  the  men,  with  her  dainty  ways  and  pretty 
speech,  and  their  hearts  will  not  be  slow  to  follow. 
As  you  say,  there  must  be  a  stop  put  to  it ;  but  we 
will  not  be  hasty  ;  you  must  leave  me  to  think  it 
out  for  a  while.  Now  you  are  fatigued  with  your 
journey  and  must  go  to  rest.  In  the  morning  I 
shall  tell  you  my  conclusions."  Both  arose  at 
these  words,  and  the  priest  opened  the  door 


230  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

of  a  small  room  next  to  the  one  they  were  occu- 
pying. 

"Here,  my  friend,"  he  continued,  "this  is 
your  room.  May  you  sleep  well,  and  dreams  of 
peace  be  with  you." 

Father  Esteban  sat  long  in  deep  thought  after 
ushering  his  visitor  into  the  bed-chamber,  and  his 
brow  was  still  somewhat  perplexed  when  he  ex- 
tinguished the  light  and  lay  down  upon  his  own 
bed  two  hours  later  ;  his  thin  lips,  however,  were 
firmly  compressed,  and  his  cheek  a  little  paler 
than  usual,  as  he  settled  his  head  upon  his  pillow 
for  sleep.  There  was  more  talk  the  next  day 
between  the  priest  and  his  guest,  and  at  five 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  on  the  day  when  Mary 
Summers  took  her  first  walk  abroad  in  La  Provi- 
dencia,  both  went  to  the  church  of  San  Antonio, 
where  the  priest  was  to  confer  with  one  or  two 
higher  dignitaries  upon  the  situation  at  San  Ber- 
nabe"  and  to  receive  their  sanction  to  his  plans. 
As  they  were  ascending  the  steps  of  the  entrance 
neither  noticed  Jose",  as  he  was  only  one  among  a 
score  of  other  young  men  standing  there,  and 
they  continued  their  low-toned  conversation  as 
they  passed  into  the  church. 

"  As  the  sefiorita  Americana  is  here,  and  as  she 
is  intending  to  remain  some  time,"  the  priest  was 
saying,  "  it  will  be  best  for  me  to  return  with  you 
to-morrow  to  San  Bernabe'.  I  know  our  people, 
and  you  know  them  also.  If  things  have  not  gone 


THE  PRIEST  AND  THE  SCHOOLMASTER.     23! 

too  far,  already ."  Here,  in  entering  the 

church,  they  were  separated  from  Jose"  for  an 
instant  by  a  party  leaving  the  building,  and  when 
he  next  caught  their  whispered  words  they  were 
already  kneeling  before  the  altar.  "  If  I  had  only 
known  that  the  lady  was  here  all  this  time,"  Padre 
Esteban  murmured,  "I  would  have  had  a  whole 
week  at  the  ranch  free  from  her  presence  and  that 
of  Jose.  Where  can  the  fellow  have  kept  himself 
all  this  time,  that  I  have  not  seen  him?  " 

"  Where  the  rest  of  the  world  kept  itself  during 
the  tempest ;  where  the  Padre  Esteban  must  have 
kept  himself,  evidently,"  replied  Gregorio,  grimly, 
"  safe  and  dry  in  the  house." 

"  Ah,  yes,"  replied  the  other.  "What  a  clear 
head  you  have,  maestro ;  but  joking  aside,  now 
that  the  weather  has  cleared,  Jose"  will  be  get- 
ting back  to  the  ranch.  You  say  that  old 
Ignacio's  servant  thinks  that  the  lady  will  remain 
until  the  girl  Angela  is  well  again?" 

1 '  Yes ;  so  she  told  me  this  morning  when  I  met 
her  in  the  market. ' ' 

"Very  good.  Then  we  set  out  to-morrow  at 
five  in  the  morning,  and  by  early  afternoon  we 
shall  be  at  the  ranch.  You  will  go  on  quietly 
to  your  own  house,  for  we  shall  not  enter  the  ranch 
together,  as  I  shall  make  a  detour  around  by  El 
Porvenir,  and  no  one  will  know  that  you  have 
seen  me  and  made  any  report  of  the  chapel  affair. 
I  shall  arrive  a  little  later,  and  as  usual  shall  go  to 


232  A    MEXICAN  .RANCH. 

old  Vera's  house.  By  bedtime  I  shall  have  a  fair 
idea  of  the  state  of  things  in  that  household,  you 
may  be  sure,  and  on  the  next  day  I  shall  act 
accordingly.  I  tell  you  this  now,  because  it  will 
be  best  for  iis  to  be  no  longer  seen  together  in 
town,  as  Jose  may  get  an  inkling  of  our  plan  and 
return  to  San  Bernabe"." 

"Thanks  for  the  suggestion,"  muttered  Jose", 
behind  his  cloak.  "  By  the  time  you  are  passing 
Devil's  Gate  to-morrow  morning,  I  shall  be  gal- 
loping over  the  prairie,  and  when  you  walk  into 
my  father's  house  in  the  'early  afternoon,'  you 
will  find  me  ready  to  receive  you." 

Here  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by 
another  suppliant  at  the  altar,  and  Jose*  left  the 
church. 

"You  will  still  find  those  who  are  faithful, 
Esteban,  and  your  welcome  will  be  warm  in  other 
houses  if  not  in  that  of  Eduardo  Vera.  Old  Juana 
hates  the  young  maestro.,  and  the  young  lady 
knows  it,  for  she  has  been  frightened  several 
times  by  the  old  woman's  threats."  Both  were 
walking  now  up  the  nave. 

"  Threats  !  "  exclaimed  the  priest,  severely  ; 
"  what  right  has  Juana  to  threaten,  and  what  has 
she  been  threatening?  " 

"  Only  out  of  her  own  crazy  imaginings  ;  you 
know  she  pretends  to  be  a  prophetess,  and  Dona 
Rosa  urges  her  on.  They  both  abhor  the  new 
doctrine ! " 


THE  PRIEST  AND  THE  SCHOOLMASTER.     233 

"  New  ! "  sighed  the  priest,  piously.  "  Oh,  that 
it  were  new,  or  that  it  had  been  strangled  in  its 
birth !  Do  you  know,  Don  Gregorio,  how  these 
false  teachings  are  spreading  all  over  the  repub- 
lic? The  cursed  Protestants  are  building 
churches  now  in  the  cities,  being  no  longer  con- 
tent with  chapels  of  adobe,  and  hundreds  attend 
the  services  where  mere  handfuls  dared  go  in 
your  youth.  Their  colleges  for  girls,  as  well  as 
those  for  boys,  are  better  than  anything  we  have, 
and  accomplished  teachers  are  brought  over  from 
the  States  to  direct  them.  Ah,  my  friend,  when 
you  were  young  and  strong,  and  this  Protestant 
hydra  was  young  and  weak,  why  did  you  not 
grasp  its  throat  and  choke  it  to  death  ?  "  asked 
the  younger  man,  half  playfully. 

Ah,  Esteban  mio"  retorted  the  schoolmaster, 
"  if  men  had  been  so  zealous  in  my  younger  days 
as  they  are  now,  as  you  are,  there  might  have 
been  hope  of  such  a  thing !  But,"  he  continued 
sternly,  "  of  what  avail  this  chaffing?  You  are 
as  much  in  earnest  as  I  am,  yet  you  will  have 
your  jest.  Come,  now,  you  are  young,  and  the 
hydra,  as  you  call  it,  is  yet  young  and  feeble 
in  San  Bernabe".  Esteban,  I  lay  it  upon  you  to 
stamp  it  out  of  existence,  to  crush  it  forever,  do 
you  hear  ?  As  yet  those  who  are  undecided  are 
only  bewitched  by  Miss  Summers'  beauty  and  her 
eloquence,  while  those  who  have  already  joined 
the  Baptists,  although  firm  enough,  I  confess,  are 


234  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

but  few,  not  more  than  forty,  I  should  think. 
You  will  go  to  the  ranch  to-niorrow,  and  by 
noon  the  next  day  the  old  walls  of  the  chapel 
will  be  demolished,  and  new  ones  begun.  You 
will  remain  there  till  the  roof  is  on,  if  necessary, 
and  before  another  spring  we  shall  celebrate  mass 
in  our  own  chapel  of  Our  Lady  of  Solitude  !  " 

They  were  standing  in  a  small  side  chapel 
devoted  to  this  very  lady,  and  the  man's  face  was 
flushed  with  enthusiasm  and  his  voice  trembled 
with  emotion. 

"  Stamp  it  out !  Crush  it  to  death!'1'1  he  con- 
tinued, muttering  to  himself,  and  his  voice  was 
the  voice  of  a  fanatic. 

The  priest  was  pale  and  his  dark  eyes  also 
flashed. 

"We  will  separate,  maestro"  he  said,  extend- 
ing his  hand  to  the  teacher.  "I  have  arranged 
for  you  at  the  hotel  where  they  will  give  you  a 
good  room.  At  five  to-morrow  morning  I  shall 
join  you  at  the  door.  It  will  still  be  dark  and  no 
one  will  see  us  as  we  ride  through  the  street. 
Once  out  of  town,  Jose"  will  hear  nothing  of  us 
and  will  probably  remain  here." 

They  parted,  and  the  priest  went  farther  into 
one  of  the  inner,  secret  rooms  to  confer  with 
those  who  had  been  awaiting  him  there  several 
moments,  while  Don  Gregorio  Nunez  prostrated 
himself  before  the  Lady  of  Solitude. 

And  San  Bernabe",  the  unconscious  magnet  of 


THE  PRIEST  AND  THE  SCHOOLMASTER.     235 

four  fast-beating  hearts,  lay  quietly  resting  on  the 
bosom  of  the  great  plain,  shadowed  by  the  purple 
mountains.  As  this  first  sunshiny  day  after  two 
weeks  of  rain  came  to  an  end,  and  the  sun  sank 
below  the  horizon,  Raquel  was  sitting  just  outside 
the  kitchen  door,  while  within  Petra  was  prepar- 
ing for  supper. 

"  Petra,"  said  the  step-mother,  gently,  "I  wish 
our  Mariquita  would  come  home." 

"Why,  mother?"  asked  the  younger  woman, 
coming  to  the  door  with  a  handful  of  the  soft 
meal-dough  in  her  hand.  "I  think  she  must 
enjoy  being  in  the  town,  now  that  Angela  is 
better.  We  heard  last  night,  you  know,  that  she 
is  doing  well." 

"  I  am  not  thinking  so  much  of  Maria  just  now 
as  of  ourselves.  For  several  nights  the  old,  terri- 
ble dream  has  returned,  and  I  have  waked  feeling 
as  I  used  to  do  when  we  had  loaned  our  picture 
of  the  Holy  Family  to  some  dying  person  in  the 
ranch, — as  if,  with  the  saints  gone,  we  were  not 
quite  safe  from  harm.  With  Mariquita  so  far 
away,  I  have  a  feeling  of  dread  that  I  cannot 
understand,  especially  when  I  wake  in  the  night." 

"  Mariquita  herself  would  tell  you  that  that  is 
all  foolish  superstition,  mamma,"  returned  Petra. 
"  However,"  she  sighed,  "  I  too  shall  be  glad 
enough  to  have  her  at  home  again.  And  so  will 
Refugio,  I  know,"  she  continued,  glancing  at  the 
gateway,  where  the  girl  stood  gazing  up  the  road 


236  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

as  if  watching  for  some  one.  "  The  child  is  grow- 
ing thin  and  seems  to  have  forgotten  how  to  laugh 
since  the  senorita  went  away.  But,  after  all, 
mamma  dear,  there  is  no 'harm  that  can  befall  us 
if  we  trust  in  God,  and  he  is  still  with  us  as  well 
as  with  Mariquita  in  L,a  Providencia. ' ' 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

JOSE  MAKES  A  DECISION. 

Slowly  and  steadily,  to  and  fro, 

Swings  our  life  in  its  weary  way; 
Now  at  its  ebb,  and  now  at  its  flow, 

And  "  the  evening  and  the  morning  make  the  day." 

Sorrow  and  happiness,  peace  and  strife, 

Fear  and  rejoicing  its  moments  know, 
Yet  from  the  discords  of  such  a  life 

Can  the  clear  music  of  heaven  flow. 

WHEN  Jose  left  his  uncle's  home  the  next  morn- 
ing the  clock  in  the  church  tower  had  just 
struck  two,  and  the  house  was  still  and  dark.  He 
had  taken  leave  of  the  family  the  night  before, 
and  saw  no  one  as  he  went  away  but  the  old  ser- 
vant, Filipa,  who  had  risen  to  lock  the  door  after 
him. 

His  heart  was  sore  and  heavy  as  he  rode  down 
the  street  to  join  his  boy  Antonio  at  the  inn,  where 
the  other  horses  had  been  stabled.  Antonio  had 
been  glad  to  find  there  a  ranchman  passing  through 

the  country  on  foot  on  his  way  to  S ,  who  was 

willing  to  ride  the  free  horse  as  far  as  San  Ber- 
nabe",  and  Jose's  consent  having  been  obtained,  the 
three  men,  shivering  in  their  blankets,  were  soon 

237 


238  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

clattering  down  the  steep  paved  way  leading  from 
the  inn  out  upon  the  road  to  the  river. 

The  morning  air  was  very  chill,  and  a  heavy 
mist  hung  over  the  river,  enveloping  the  riders  in 
its  wet  folds  and  penetrating  through  their  heavy 
coverings. 

Jose  rode  before  his  companions  and  congratu- 
lated himself  on  being  three  hours  ahead  of  the 
priest  and  Don  Gregorio,  who  would  not  start 
from  the  hotel  before  five  o'clock.  He  was  not 
thinking  so  much  of  them,  however,  as  of  Mary 
Summers,  who  was  still  quietly  sleeping  in  her 
little  white  room  at  Ignacio  Vera's,  for  Angela  was 
so  much  better  now  that  her  nurse  could  leave  her 
to  her  mother  during  the  night.  He  knew  that 
no  bodily  harm  could  come  to  Mary  in  La  Provi- 
dencia,  but  he  feared  the  result  of  old  Filipa's 
garrulity  among  her  cronies  in  the  market-place. 
La  Providencia  was  an  exceedingly  fanatical  town, 
and  though  several  attempts  had  been  made  at 
different  times  to  establish  some  form  of  evangeli- 
cal work  there,  these  schemes  had  been  invariably 
thwarted  by  the  vigilance  of  the  priesthood,  and 
La  Providencia,  as  a  site  for  missionary  opera- 
tions, had  been  finally  abandoned  for  other  more 
favorable  openings. 

So  far  as  Jose"  had  ever  heard,  there  was  not  one 
Protestant  in  the  town,  and  he  had  attempted  to 
exact  from  Mary  the  promise  that  she  would  not 
walk  out  during  the  remaining  days  of  her  stay 


JOSI5  MAKES  A  DECISION.  239 

there  in  order  to  shield  her  from  the  insults  and 
disagreeable  encounters  which  would  be  hers,  if 
she  should  become  known  as  an  evangelistic 
teacher.  He  was  sure  that  Father  Esteban  would 
not  leave  her  movements  unwatched,  and  there 
were  many  in  the  town  who  would  become  inter- 
ested in  her  comings  and  goings,  for  Esteban  was 
but  one  among  a  numerous  band  of  priests  sta- 
tioned there.  Jose"  knew  that  he  could  trust  much 
to  Miss  Summers'  own  prudence  however,  and 'con- 
soled himself  with  the  recollection  of  the  tact  and 
wisdom  with  which  she  was  wont  to  deal  with 
the  difficulties  in  her  way,  during  her  life  on  the 
ranch.  He  surmised  also  that  her  unwillingness 
to  accede  to  his  request  the  day  before  was  very 
probably  due  to  a  feeling  on  her  part  that  he  was 
taking  too  much  upon  himself  in  presuming  to 
dictate  to  her  on  such  a  subject 

"And  not  knowing  all  that  I  knew,  she  would 
have  had  reason  to  think  so,"  he  said  to  himself; 
"but  I  wished  to  spare  her  the  uneasiness  of 
knowing  that  she  was  being  discussed  by  such 
men  as  Don  Gregorio  and  the  padre.  After  all, 
she  is  to  be  in  La  Providencia  but  two  or  three 
days  longer,  and  Angela  will  not  spare  her  often. 
Poor  Angela,"  he  thought,  remorsefully;  "poor, 
pretty  little  Angela  !  I  wonder  if  Daniel  settled 
their  engagement  when  he  was  here.  How  glad 
I  am  that  she  has  learned  to  love  him,  for  I 
could  not  marry  her  now !  " 


240  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

As  they  approached  Devil's  Gate  the  horses 
hesitated  and  backed  away  from  the  cold,  swift 
river  which  they  could  not  see  for  the  mist 
shrouding  the  banks.  Jose's  heart  beat  furiously 
as  he  urged  his  horse  into  the  water,  and  the  rec- 
ollection of  that  other  night,  when  he  had  last 
passed  through  the  gate,  took  away  all  thought 
of  the  present  moment.  The  water,  however,  had 
fallen  considerably,  and  there  was  no  difficulty  in 
fording  now,  so  that  they  were  not  long  in  reach- 
ing the  hard  road  again  at  the  other  end  of  the 
pass  between  the  cliffs. 

On  they  traveled  through  the  mist  along  the  river- 
bank,  the  two  companions  in  the  rear  too  cold  and 
sleepy  for  conversation,  and  Jose",  on  his  big  gray 
horse,  very  wide-awake  and  full  of  thought.  As 
it  had  ceased  raining  twenty-four  hours  before,  the 
road,  which  sloped  toward  the  river-bank,  was 
fairly  good,  and  drained  off  the  water  which  had 
stood  in  pools  ten  days  before.  As  they  ascended 
the  rocky  road  leading  up  from  the  river,  usher- 
ing them  into  the  dim  defile  over  the  long  crest 
of  the  hill,  they  left  the  river  mist  behind,  and  the 
air  grew  milder  in  the  shelter  of  the  pines. 

Jor.e"  turned  his  face  toward  the  sky,  and  foiind 
that  it  was  beautifully  clear,  with  the  bright 
winter  stars  sparkling  through  the  blue.  It  was 
now  about  four  o'clock,  and  there  was  no  sign  as 
yet  that  day  would  ever  break  again  over  those 
sombre  mountain  heights.  There  was  the  moist, 


JOSE  MAKES  A  DECISION.  341 

sweet  odor  from  the  woods  around,  but  not  a  sound 
broke  the  absolute  silence  save  the  tread  of  the 
horses'  feet. 

Every  step  was  full  of  memories  for  Jose  of  those 
short,  sweet  hours  when  he  had  ridden  there  by 
Miss  Summers'  side,  when,  whether  she  spoke  or 
not,  the  air  had  seemed  filled  with  her  presence. 
He  was  only  a  simple  Mexican  youth,  far  younger 
in  some  experiences  than  many  a  lad  of  eighteen 
in  our  enlightened  country — younger  even  than 
his  nephew,  Captain  Daniel,  in  many  things.  In 
his  veins  ran  Indian  as  well  as  Spanish  blood,  and 
his  education  in  books  had  so  far  been  very  meagre. 

Long  ago,  ever  since  Mary  had  come  into  the 
little  ranch-world,  he  himself  had  realized  all  this, 
and  in  his  humility  had  always  thought  of  her  as 
a  being  different  from  himself,  who  must  be  con- 
sidered quite  apart  from  all  other  mortals,  and  he 
had  never  dared  confess  to  himself  what  he  had 
been  forced  to  acknowledge  to  his  nephew,  Daniel, 
as  they  had  walked  together  in  the  moonlight. 
Nothing  had  been  farther  from  his  thoughts  than 
any  intention  of  divulging  his  state  of  mind  to 
the  lady  herself,  and  he  shivered  now  with  horror 
and  dismay,  as  he  recalled  the  passionate  words 
he  had  spoken  on  rescuing  her  from  the  water. 

Why  could  he  not  have  kept  silence,  as  he  had 
so  long  done  through  so  many  months  of  mingled 
joy  and  pain  ?  Why  must  the  old  life  of  happy 
watching  for  her  fair,  sweet  face,  as  she  passed 

Q 


242  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

him  on  her  way  to  school,  or  listening  to  her 
voice  talking  in  the  court  to  Petra,  or  leading  the 
songs  of  the  little  ones,  be  at  an  end  ?  It  seemed 
to  him  as  he  rode  slowly  now,  in  the  bewildering 
half-light  which  was  softly  creeping  over  the 
woods,  that  nothing  could  ever  be  the  same  again. 
He  seemed  to  have  betrayed  the  loved  senorita,  as 
well  as  himself,  in  his  hasty  words  of  relief  and 
gladness  as  he  had  seen  her  eyes  open  again  to 
the  world,  and  had  heard  her  voice  calling  his 
name.  He  would  go  on  living,  of  course,  and  he 
would  study  his  music  and  English  just  the  same, 
for  the  senorita  was  kind  and  would  be  no  differ- 
ent with  him,  but  he  was  afraid  of  himself  now, 
and  could  never  again  be  so  sure  of  his  self-control 
as  before.  "  She  has  already  forgotten  it  all,"  he 
muttered  to  himself.  "  Such  words  as  mine  from 
a  lowly-born  Mexican  to  her,  an  angel  of  beauty 
and  of  goodness,  are  nothing  more  than  this  little 
mist  down  here  is  to  the  blue  sky  there  where  the 
stars  are  shining.  Everybody  loves  her  ;  she  is 
used  to  that,  and  she  does  not  understand  that  my 
love  is  different,  that  I  would  die  for  her  to  spare 
her  a  moment  of  grief  or  pain  !  " 

As  the  little  party  neared  the  inn  where  they 
had  taken  dinner  on  the  former  journey,  Antonio 
spurred  his  horse  to  Josh's  side  and  asked  if  he 
wished  to  stop  there  for  breakfast. 

"No,"  Jose*  replied,  "we  will  stop  a  little  this 
side  of  the  house,  as  I  do  not  care  to  be  talked  to 


JOSE   MAKES  A   DECISION.  343 

by  the  men  and  women  there.  Besides,  it  is  early 
and  there  will  be  nothing  prepared  for  us.  You 
have  a  sack  of  food  for  the  horses,  as  I  told  you, 
have  you  not  ?  ' ' 

"  Yes,  senor,"  the  servant  answered. 

"  Well,  stop  here  and  feed  them.  We  will  get 
to  San  Bernabe  in  time  for  breakfast  at  seven 
o'clock,  but  if  you  and  your  friend  are  hungry, 
here  is  bread  and  cheese,"  throwing  across  to  the 
boy  a  package  which  his  Aunt  Isabel  had  slipped 
into  his  saddle-bags  the  night  before.  "  Eat  it  all, 
I  want  nothing.  And  Antonio,"  he  added,  as  he 
dismounted,  "  after  breathing  the  horses  a  little 
and  feeding  them,  follow  me.  I  shall  walk  on 
until  you  overtake  me.  When  you  reach  the 
path  turning  off  from  this  road  a  little  farther  on 
to  the  right,  turn  into  that  path.  It  will  bring  us 
out  on  the  prairie  at  some  distance  from  the  inn. 
You  will  find  me  in  that  path.  And  do  not  stop 
longer  than  ten  minutes. ' ' 

"Yes,  senor,"  the  boy  repeated;  "but  Don 
Jose,  do  you  not  know  that  the  path  is  much 
longer  than  the  road  and  that  it  is  very  steep  and 
rocky  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  that,"  returned  his  master,  briefly. 

He  did  not  wish  to  pass  the  inn  where  Father 
Esteban  and  Don  Gregorio  would  stop  for  refresh- 
ment a  few  hours  later,  but  not  thinking  it  neces- 
sary to  explain  his  motive  to  the  boy,  he  set  out 
on  foot  down  the  narrow  path,  and  here  his 


244  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

thoughts  recurred  to  the  purpose  of  the  priest's 
early  visit  to  San  Bernabe.  He  could  determine 
upon  no  action  beyond  that  of  warning  his  father 
and  mother  of  the  fact  of  the  visit,  until  he  should 
know  something  more  of  the  man's  plans.  He 
was  sure  that  Father  Esteban  would  be  wary  and 
slow  to  bring  about  an  open  rupture  with  the 
Vera  family,  and  he  himself  proposed  to  keep  his 
eyes  open  and  to  let  none  of  the  Jesuit's  move- 
ments escape  him. 

Before  long  he  was  joined  by  his  attendants  and 
remounted  his  horse  just  as  the  path  led  down  the 
last  declivity  and  out  upon  the  open  stretch  of 
prairie.  Here  the  horses  felt  themselves  at  home, 
and  picking  up  their  ears  responded  eagerly  to  the 
touch  of  the  spur  that  sent  them  galloping  toward 
San  Bernabe". 

Now  the  eastern  sky  was  golden,  and  a  strange 
yellow  light  lay  over  the  plain.  The  mountains 
rose  black  and  somber  against  the  bright  heavens 
sweeping  beyond  their  dark  outlines,  and  the 
prairie  dogs  were  beginning  to  peep  out  of  their 
burrows  and  bark  friendly  good-mornings  to  their 
next-door  neighbors. 

The  exchange  from  the  damp  gloom  of  the 
shadowy  woods  to  the  brightening  prairie  land 
gave  a  healthier  tinge  to  Josh's  thoughts  as  his 
horse  sped  over  the  level  road,  and  something 
like  hope  revived  in  his  breast. 

"Whatever     happens,"     he     said     half-aloud, 


JOSE  MAKES  A  DECISION.  245 

through  his  clenched  teeth,  "  nothing  shall  touch 
her.  Never  again  shall  I  speak  to  her  as  I  did 
that  night ;  nevertheless,  I  shall  guard  her,  just  as 
if  I  had  a  greater  right  to  do  so.  She  shall  see  no 
difference  in  me,  for  I  shall  learn  to  bear  it  better 
after  a  little,  and  I  could  not  grieve  her  ! ' ' 

He  heard  the  two  other  horses  quickening  their 
steps  behind,  and  before  he  could  turn  to  see  the 
cause  of  their  haste,  Antonio  was  riding  at  his 
side,  and  the  stranger  just  behind. 

"Don  Jose,"  said  the  boy,  "Pedro  here  has 
been  telling  me  something  that  they  were  saying 
in  the  inn  last  night,  while  I  was  out  with  the 
horses.  Is  it  true,  senor,  that  you  are  a  Protestant, 
and  that  you  are  going  to  be  baptized  very  soon  ?  " 
The  boy's  manner  was  very  eager,  as  he  looked  at 
his  companion  for  confirmation  of  his  report. 

"  Let  me  hear  all  that  Pedro  heard  said,"  Jose* 
replied,  looking  around  and  motioning  the  man  to 
approach.  ' '  What  is  it  now,  friend,  that  they 
say  of  me  ?" 

"  Why,  senor,  it  was  only  what  the  boy  has  said, 
and  I  am  sure  I  did  not  mean  for  him  to  tell  it  to 
you  right  away.  As  he  says,  he  had  gone  out  to 
feed  the  horses,  and  as  he  crossed  the  court  where 
several  of  us  were  sitting,  some  one  said,  '  There 
goes  the  servant  of  that  cursed  Protestant ! ' 
Everybody  exclaimed  then,  and  asked  him  what 
he  meant,  and  he  said  that  you  were  the  son  of 
the  richest  man  anywhere  about,  and  that  your 


246  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

father  was  already  a  Protestant,  while  your  mother 
was  noted  for  her  zeal  as  a  Romanist,  and  that  he 
had  heard  it  said  in  the  market  that  morning  that 
you  had  followed  your  father,  and  would  soon  join 
the  Evangelicals.  He  also  said " 

"  What?"  demanded  Jose",  sharply. 

"  That  you  had  better  not  be  around  L,a  Provi- 
dencia  much,  just  now,  as  the  padres  had  known 
how  to  make  away  with  '  the  followers  of  the 
cursed  religion  ' — those  were  his  words,  sir — before 
now.  I  am  glad  you  did  not  stay,  serior,  if  you 
are  what  the  man  thought,"  concluded  Pedro, 
looking  slyly  at  Jose",  from  under  the  wide  brim 
of  his  hat. 

"But  are  you  a  Protestant,  seiior ?"  persisted 
Antonio,  with  the  familiarity  of  a  favored  servant. 

Jose*  had  but  a  moment  to  prepare  his  reply  to 
this  question.  Why  should  he  hesitate  to  express 
himself  now  ?  Because  in  an  hour  it  would  be 
spread  by  Anfonio  all  over  San  Bernabe*,  and  in 
whatever  ranch  the  fellow  Pedro  should  choose  to 
carry  the  news.  He  might  bind  them  both  over 
to  silence  for  a  while — but  why  ?  It  might  be 
necessary  this  very  day  to  take  his  stand  before 
his  family  and  the  priest,  and  there  was  no  doubt 
in  his  mind  as  to  what  his  course  would  be  then. 

"  Yes,  I  am  a  Protestant,"  he  replied  at  length, 
firmly,  while  the  above  reasoning  surged  through 
his  brain. 

Nothing  more  was  said  on   either  side.     An- 


JOs£   MAKES  A  DECISION.  247 

tonio's  face  fell  as  he  drew  back  silently  to  join 
the  man  Pedro,  who  in  his  turn  rode  on,  with  his 
jaw  dropped  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  back  of  the 
strange  being  who  had  just  declared  himself  one 
of  the  "cursed  sect." 

Jose  turned  his  face  to  the  sun,  which  was  just 
appearing  above  the  mountain  peak,  and  a  light 
which  was  not  all  of  the  sun,  broke  over  his 
contenance. 

"  Now  I  shall  live  !  "  was  his  thought.  "  The 
Son  of  God  shall  be  my  master,  and  I  shall  be 
his  servant,  and  live  in  doing  his  will.  God  help 
me  ! "  And  this  was  the  second  prayer  of  Josh's 
life. 

Meanwhile  the  priest  and  the  schoolmaster  were 
just  entering  the  river  pass,  and  Padre  Esteban 
was  idly  wondering  whose  could  be  the  fresh 
tracks  in  the  black  mud  along  the  water's  edge. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  PRIEST  BAFFLED. 

To  those  that  are  his,  all  things  are  not  only  easy  to  be  borne,  but 
even  to  be  chosen.  Their  will  is  united  to  that  Will  which  moves 
heaven  and  earth,  which  gives  laws  to  angels,  and  rules  the  courses 
of  the  world. — Manning. 

THE  schoolmaster's  mule  had  not  long  finished 
his  dinner  that  same  day  in  the  little,  thatched 
shed  at  home,  when  Padre  Esteban  rode  sedately, 
as  became  a  man  of  his  holy  calling,  into  San 
Bernabe*.  The  ranch  seemed  very  peaceful  and 
quiet,  basking  in  the  afternoon  sunlight,  and  here 
and  there  little  family  groups  were  collected  about 
the  house  doors  enjoying-  the  change  to  blue  skies 
and  sunshine  after  the  wet,  gray  weather  of  the 
past  fortnight.  Many  a  surprised  look  and  hur- 
ried word  or  gesture  of  welcome,  greeted  the  priest, 
as  he  slowly  walked  his  horse  past  these  groups  of 
his  parishioners.  As  he  rounded  the  corner  of  a 
wall  to  turn  into  Eduardo  Vera's  court,  he  saw  the 
figure  of  an  old  woman  at  a  distance  in  front  fran- 
tically beckoning  to  him,  but  he  only  smiled 
blandly,  and  greeting  her  with  a  wave  of  his  hand, 
passed  on  to  the  great  gates  which  stood  hospit- 
ably open.  He  saw  no  one  as  he  paused  just  out- 
248 


Jos*. 


Page  249. 


THE  PRIEST  BAFFLED.  249 

side,  and  about  the  court  and  house  there  seemed 
an  unusual  stillness.  The  sunlight  flooded  the 
court-yard,  and  intensified  the  vivid  colors  of  the 
flowers  in  the  little  garden-plot  by  the  well,  while 
the  heat  brought  out  the  odor  of  the  fennel  grow- 
ing luxuriantly  in  a  border.  The  court  had  been 
freshly  swept  and  sprinkled,  for  in  Mexico  a  day's 
sunshine  undoes  much  of  the  work  of  days  of  rain. 
All  of  the  house  was  closed  except  the  double 
doors  of  the  sala,  and  these  were  thrown  wide 
open,  showing  that  the  house  was  not  entirely 
deserted. 

If  the  priest  had  stopped  to  hear  what  old  Juana 
had  been  so  eager  to  tell  him,  as  she  .signaled  to 
him  in  the  road,  he  would  have  learned  that  Jose 
was  at  home,  having  arrived  from  the  town  that 
morning.  As  he  raised  his  hand  to  knock  at  the 
gate,  some  one  left  the  sala  and  came  toward  him 
across  the  court,  and  his  amazed  eyes  told  him 
that  this  was  the  young  man  whom  he  had  con- 
sidered safe  in  L,a  Providencia,  thirty  miles  away. 

Jose"  was  carefully  dressed,  and  he  carried  in  his 
hand  a  book  which  he  had  been  reading.  Perhaps, 
below  the  surface,  he  was  not  so  cool  and  uncon- 
cerned as  his  outward  manner  indicated.  He  met 
the  priest  with  the  grave  courtesy  becoming  a  son 
of  the  house,  at  whose  doors  no  guest  was  received 
otherwise  than  hospitably,  and  his  blue  eyes  were 
very  bright  and  his  face  was  pale,  as  he  invited 
the  priest  to  dismount. 


250  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"  You  are  here,"  gasped  the  priest,  in  his  first 
surprise,  as  Jose  laid  his  hand  upon  the  bridle  of 
the  horse,  and  signalled  to  Antonio  who  ap- 
proached the  gates  from  the  outside.  For  a 
moment  his  self-command  had  forsaken  him. 

"  Yes,  sefior,"  Jose  replied,  "  I  arrived  this  morn- 
ing— only  a  few  hours  ago." 

"And  I  have  traveled  all  day  alone.  We  might 
have  been  traveling  companions,  friend  Jose," 
rejoined  the  other,  recovering  himself,  "if  each 
had  only  known  the  other's  plans.  As  I  passed 
through  the  village  of  La  Coucordia,  some  one 
told  me  that  a  horseman,  resembling  one  of  the 
Vera  lads,  had  galloped  through  that  morning 
early,  and  had  stopped  to  speak  with  no  one.  I 

presume  you  have  been  paying  a  visit  in  S , 

whence  I  come." 

"  Senor,"  returned  Jose,  sternly,  fixing  his  pene- 
trating blue  eyes  upon  his  companion's  clean- 
shaven visage,  u  I  came  from  La  Providencia.  I 
left  that  town  just  three  hours  before  " — "  your- 
self," he  was  about  to  say,  but  the  time  was  not 
yet  come  for  discussion — "before  daybreak,"  he 
concluded. 

"Ah,"  replied  the  priest,  his  own  gaze  falling 
before  that  of  Jose",  "  then  it  was  a  mistake  about 
your  riding  through  La  Concordia.  I  am  glad, 
my  son,  that  I  find  you  at  home,  for  there  will  be 
many  things  to  speak  of  in  connection  with  the 
dedication  of  the  new  chapel.  Of  course,  I  did 


THE  PRIEST  BAFFLED.  25! 

not  expect  to  find  it  completed,  coming,  as  I  have 
done,  so  much  in  advance  of  the  time  of  my  last 
year's  visit,"  he  added,  amicably. 

They  entered  the  sala,  where  the  air-was  chill 
and  damp,  and  the  priest  shivered  at  the  exceeding 
stiffness  and  lack  of  warmth  which  he  seemed  to 
find  in  his  reception,  notwithstanding  Jose's  grave 
politeness.  Where  was  Raquel,  where  was  Petra, 
and  the  harmless  old  Baptist,  Don  Eduardo  ? 

"  My  mother  and  sister  have  gone  to  visit  my 
cousin,  Martina  Vera,"  remarked  Jose,  as  if  in 
answer  to  the  padre's  unspoken  question.  "  They 
will  not  be  long,  I  am  sure,  and  my  father  has 
ridden  over  to  El  Porvenir  with  Benjamin.  Shall 
we  take  onr  chairs  into  the  court?"  he  added, 
noticing  the  priest's  involuntary  shiver  at  the 
chill  aspect  of  the  house.  "  In  the  sun  it  is  quite 
warm." 

And  there  in  the  sun  they  conversed  upon  all 
manner  of  indifferent  subjects,  until  Jose  began  an 
account  of  little  Juan's  illness  and  death.  Este- 
ban  listened  attentively  to  this,  and  watched  Jose* 
furtively  from  beneath  his  downcast  eyelids.  Jose 
was  speaking  merely  to  pass  the  time,  being  quite 
assured  that  Don  Gregorio  had  already  told  the 
whole  story  to  the  priest,  as  was  indeed  the  truth, 
although  Esteban's  carefully  chosen  replies  did 
not  betray  it. 

"  Old  Juana  nursed  the  boy,  you  say,"  said  the 
latter.  "What  a  pity  it  was  that  this  young 


252  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

American  lady — who,  they  say,  is  equal  to  any 
doctor — could  not  have  cared  for  him..  He  might 
then  have  been  spared  to  his  mother,  poor 
woman !  u 

"  Yes,"  assented  Jose",  wincing  inwardly  at  this 
careless  mention  of  Miss  Summers  by  the  man 
who  was  growing  to  be  hateful  to  him.  "It  is 
true  that  he  might  have  been  saved,  as  my  Cousin 
Angela  has  been." 

"And  is  it  true,  Jose",  all  that  they  say  of  the 
little  American,  that  she  is  as  beautiful  as  she  is 
wise  and  as  good  as  she  is  beautiful  ?  I  hope,"  he 
continued,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  "  that  I 
shall  be  so  fortunate  as  to  make  her  acquaintance 
while  here.  I  hear  that  she  is  under  your  roof. 
Perhaps  I  shall  meet  her  to-night.  I  know  that 
these  Americans  are  very  willing  to  be  thrown  with 
us  and  to  discuss  the  differences  in  our  beliefs. 
And  it  would  be  worth  a  little  of  apparent  sacrifice 
of  one's  own  opinions  to  find  favor  in  the  eyes  of 
a  lovely  young  lady,  eh,  Jose*  ? ' ' 

"  I  do  not  agree  with  you,  sefior,"  replied  Jose", 
gravely  and  briefly.  He  was  determined  not  to 
lose  his  temper  with  this  man. 

"  I  suppose  she  is  out  on  some  mission  of  charity 
just  now,  this  young  missionary.  Am  I  right, 
Jose*?" 

"  Yes,  sefior,"  replied  Jose" ;  "  she  is  at  present  in 
La  Providencia,  nursing  our  Angela,  who  is  ill  of 
small-pox.  Ah  !  here  comes  my  nephew  Daniel," 


THE   PRIEST  BAFFLED.  253 

as  the  young  captain  came  across  the  court,  his 
sword  clanking  at  every  step. 

Jose  was  anxious  not  to  lose  sight  of  his  guest 
during  that  first  afternoon,  so  he  seated  himself 
again,  after  bringing  out  a  chair  for  his  nephew. 
After  greetings  between  the  captain  and  the  priest, 
the  former  turned  to  Jose  and  asked  : 

"  What  news  of  Angela,  Jose  ?  I  wished  to  see 
you  before  now,  but  my  mother  can  scarcely  bear 
me  out  of  her  sight,  as  I  shall  leave  to-morrow  or 
next  day,  and  she  kept  rne  a  prisoner  all  the  morn- 
ing. What  of  my  cousin's  health  ?  " 

"Angelita  is  better,  Daniel,  and  will  recover 
now.  But  what  is  this  you  are  saying  of  going 
back  to  the  city  ?  I  thought  you  had  secured  a 
renewal  of  your  leave  of  absence." 

"  Yes,  that  is  true.  I  do  not  mean,  however,  to 
spend  all  my  vacation  in  this  stupid  place.  I  shall 

return  to  S .     There  are  to  be  grand  doings 

there,  I  hear,  padre,  on  the  day  of  our  lady." 

"  Yes,  all  of  the  faithful  will  do  honor  to  our 
lady  on  that  day,  captain,  more  in  the  city,  of 
course,  than  in  a  place  like  our  ranch  here,"  re- 
plied the  priest.  "  Still, "  he  continued,  "  we  shall 
do  what  we  can,  even  here,  to  make  the  day  pleas- 
ant for  the  people,  is  it  not  so,  Jose"  ?  " 

"  You  know  that  I  never  take  part  in  any  of  the 
religious  feasts,  senor,"  replied  Jose. 

"All  I  care  for,"  interposed  Daniel,  "is  to  stand 
at  the  cathedral  doors  and  watch  the  pretty  senor- 


254  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

itas  going  and  coming,  with,  the  prayers  on  their 
lips  and  coquetry  in  their  eyes  ;  eh,  padre  mio?  " 

The  padre  smiled  and  held  up  a  reproving  fore- 
finger, playfully  saying,  ' '  Oh,  you  are  heathen, 
you  two  ! " 

"But  come  now,  Padre  Esteban,  confess  to  us 
two  heathen,  you  who  are  father  confessor  to  so 
many  girls,  which  please  you  most,  the  pretty 
little  creatures  or  the  ugly  ones  ? ' '  This  was  from 
Daniel. 

"  I,  seiior  capitan,  am  a  priest  of  God.  I  look 
at  the  hearts  which  are  laid  bare  in  the  confes- 
sional and  not  at  the  faces.  Be  careful,  my  son, 
and  do  not  impute  such  worldly  thoughts  to 
one  who,  though  unworthy,  is  one  of  Christ's 
vicars." 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense  !  "  exclaimed  Daniel,  with 
his  harsh  laugh.  "You  are  still  a  man,  neverthe- 
less, and  a  young  one,  and  you  need  not  tell  me 
that  your  material  eyes  see  no  difference  between 
a  pretty  and  an  ugly  face,  whatever  your  spiritual 
eyes,  if  a  man  has  any  such,  may  see.  Ha  !  ha  ! 
Why  our  Angela  told  me,  when  she  returned  home 
from  her  last  confession  to  you " 

"  Have  done,  Daniel !  "  commanded  Jose*  now, 
with  his  face  on  fire.  "  Shame  on  you,  sir,  to 
jest  about  your  own  cousin  with  a  stranger  !  " 

"  A  stranger,  am  I?"  thought  the  priest  to 
himself.  "  Ah,  there  has  been  some  change  here  ; 
more  than  I  thought.  Come,  courage,  I  must  go 


THE   PRIEST  BAFFLED.  255 

to  the  bottom  of  this  matter,  and  understand  what 
he  means." 

"  That  is  right,  Jose  mio"  he  commented,  aloud. 
"  Never  let  the  affairs  of  the  family  be  discussed 
in  public.  But  I  am  really  hurt,  my  son,  that  you 
should  consider  me  a  stranger,  and  speak  of  the 
confessor  of  your  family  as  such.  What  have  I 
done  to  merit  this  ?  ' ' 

"  I  do  not  know  that  you  have  changed,  sefior," 
replied  Jose,  gravely.  The  priest  noticed  that  the 
word  "  padre  "  had  not  once  left  his  lips  ;  it  was 
always  sefior.  "  I  have  remarked  no  change  at 
all  in  you." 

"I  was  hoping,"  the  priest  proceeded,  "that  I 
should  be  able  to  prevail  on  you  during  this  visit 
to  come  to  confession.  And  I  have  heard,"  he 
added,  tentatively,  "  of  the  probable  betrothal  be- 
tween you  and  your  cousin,  Angela  Vera.  What 
more  fitting-  than  at  such  a  time,  so  interesting  and 
full  of  tenderness,  to  put  yourself  right  with  the 
church  by  means  of  the  confession  and  the  holy 
communion  ?  Even  I,  however  much  a  stranger, 
may  be  permitted  to  suggest  this." 

Jose"  allowed  the  man  to  finish  what  he  had  to 
say,  and  then  replied,  while  Daniel  sat  by,  silenced 
and  curious  : 

"  It  is  with  God  himself  that  I  wish  always 
to  put  myself  right,  sefior,  and  that  will  be 
done  without  confession  to  a  man,  who  is  not 
unlike  all  other  men  in  liability  to  be  tempted 


256  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

and  to  fall.  '  The  church  '  need  not  interfere  in 
a  matter  between  me  and  iny  God  alone.  Besides, 
you  make  a  mistake  about  a  betrothal  between 
my  cousin  and  myself.  Such  a  thing  has  never 
been  spoken  of."  Jose  could  not  add,  "  nor 
thought  of,"  for  he  knew  in  his  inmost  soul,  that 
Angela  had  thought  of  it,  at  least  before  the 
coming  of  the  brilliant  young  captain,  and  that 
he  himself  had  dwelt  not  discontentedly,  though 
secretly,  upon  the  same  idea  some  six  months 
before.  But,  as  he  said,  nothing  had  been  defi- 
nitely settled,  and  he  had  only  gravely  admired 
Angela's  pretty  airs  and  coquetry,  without  ever 
caring  to  wonder  whether  he  would  like  them 
as  well  in  a  wife.  Here  Jose  looked  searchingly 
at  Daniel,  who  seemed  somewhat  embarrassed  by 
the  look. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  the  priest  replied,  ignoring 
Jose*'s  last  statement  as  one  not  to  be  discussed  in 
the  presence  of  a  third  party.  "  Your  feeling  is 
only  natural  about  the  confession.  It  is  easier  for 
the  women  to  avail  themselves  of  the  privilege 
than  for  us  men,  who  have  broader  ideas  and 
higher  conceptions  of  what  is  due  to  ourselves. 
Their  sins  are  only  those  of  their  little  every-day 
lives,  but  they  weigh  so  heavily  on  their  more 
tender  consciences  that  they  eagerly  embrace  the 
opportunity  of  unburdening  themselves  to  a  sym- 
pathizing confessor.  Now,  we  men,"  including 
both  Daniel  and  Jose"  in  his  gracious  glance, 


THE  PRIEST    BAFFLED.  357 

"  when  we  sin,  go  deeper  than  the  women,  and  our 
very  natures  impel  us  to  secrecy  when  we  have 
gone  wrong.  We  are  as  strong  in  living  down 
our  crimes  in  silence  as  in  committing  them." 

This  peroration  delivered,  the  priest  fixed  his 
eyes  in  seemingly  deep  thought  upon  the  ground 
at  his  feet  while  his  companions,  each  in  his  own 
way,  formed  his  opinion  of  the  man. 

"Whew  !  "  thought  the  admiring  little  captain, 
"one  would  be  almost  willing  to  be  a  priest  if 
one  could  learn  to  be  as  eloquent  as  this  Padre 
Bsteban.  He  must  be  a  model  father  confessor, 
with  his  knowledge  of  human  nature  and  his 
sympathy  with  its  weakness.  I  shall  leave  all 
the  year's  sins  with  him  to-morrow,  and  much 
good  may  they  do  him  !  "  smiling  lightly. 

' '  This  man  could  never  commit  a  crime  him- 
self," Jose*  decided  ;  "but  he  would  not  hesitate 
to  persuade  others  to  do  so.  What  a  deceitful 
coward  he  is  !  " 

Both  young  men  were  spared  an  audible  expres- 
sion of  the  impression  made  by  the  padre's  views, 
however,  for  at  this  moment  the  rest  of  the  family 
entered  the  court  and  the  subject  of  confession  was 
dropped  amid  the  greetings  of  the  host  and  hostess. 
With  the  same  studied  politeness  which  Jose  had 
shown,  the  young  priest  was  welcomed  by  the  elder 
members  of  the  family  ;  but  he  noticed  that  no  one 
offered  to  kiss  his  plump,  white  hand  as  usual  ; 
only  little  Benjamin  was  the  same,  and  the  child 


258  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

began  immediately  to  search  the  pockets  of  the 
priest's  long  black  coat  for  the  sweetmeats  he  had 
always  found  there  heretofore.  In  the  hurried 
departure  from  L,a  Providencia,  however,  Esteban 
had  forgotten  to  provide  himself  with  the  usual 
dainties,  and  the  spoiled  little  boy,  on  making  the 
discovery  that  the  pockets  were  empty,  tore  him- 
self from  the  priest's  encircling  arms  and  stood 
defiantly  at  Jose's  knee,  declaring : 

"You  are  bad,  senor  padre,  and  I  do  not  love 
you  any  more.  Now  I  shall  never  be  a  priest,  for 
priests  tell  lies.  You  promised  me  an  orange  and 
some  dried  figs  and  you  have  brought  me  nothing 
at  all.  I  do  not  love  you  !  "  and  he  stamped  his 
small  foot  in  anger,  while  tears  of  disappointment 
filled  his  eyes. 

"Never  mind,  little  brother,"  whispered  Jose", 
drawing  the  boy  to  his  knee.  ' '  Perhaps  there 
were  no  oranges  and  figs  where  the  senor  comes 
from,  but  I  have  brought  you  something  from  La 
Providencia.  Run  now  and  bring  me  the  saddle- 
bags from  my  room." 

Benjamin  was  soon  comforted  with  the  nuts 
found  in  Jose's  bags  and  took  no  further  notice 
of  the  discomfited  priest. 

After  supper  all  felt  that  the  time  had  come 
when  an  understanding  must  be  brought  about, 
even  at  the  risk  of  an  open  rupture,  for  anything 
was  better  than  this  formal  display  of  friendliness. 

So,  when  Daniel  declared  himself  charged  with 


THE  PRIEST  BAFFLED.  359 

a  message  from  his  mother,  Dona  Rosa,  to  the 
priest,  to  the  effect  that  he  should  come  and  sit 
with  her  till  bedtime,  Jose  interposed  and  re- 
minded the  priest  of  his  expressed  wish  to  talk  of 
certain  matters  of  business.  The  latter  therefore, 
sent  a  polite  message  of  regret  to  Dona  Rosa  and 
promised  to  see  her  later  in  the  evening.  Daniel, 
divining  that  his  company  was  not  especially 
desired,  took  himself  off,  and  the  door  of  the  sala 
had  scarcely  closed  upon  him  when  the  priest 
began,  in  his  ready  way  : 

"We  have  had  no  time  yet,  senora,  to  speak  of 
the  subject  most  interesting  to  me  now,  and  no 
doubt  to  you  also  and  to  your  family.  I  refer  to 
the  new  chapel  of  Our  L,ady  of  Solitude,  which 
seems  nearly  ready  for  use. ' ' 

He  paused  a  moment,  but  as  no  one  offered  to 
speak,  he  continued  :  "  I  have  hastened  my  jour- 
ney hither,  thinking  that  my  presence  among  the 
workmen  might  stimulate  them  to  greater  efforts 
to  complete  the  building  so  that  it  may  be  dedi- 
cated by  the  new  year.  Was  I  right? "  he  asked, 
looking  from  one  to  the  other  of  his  audience. 
Jose  was  about  to  reply,  when  Raquel,  mak- 
ing him  a  sign  to  be  silent,  replied,  with  quiet 
dignity  : 

"Serior  Esteban  Lopez  has  as  much  right  as 
any  one  to  come  to  San  Bernabe  whenever  he 
wishes  to  do  so.  He  has  never  been  opposed  in 
his  coming  in  the  past,  nor  will  -he  be  in  the 


260  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

future.  As  far  as  the  building  of  the  chapel  is 
concerned,  that  is  at  an  end,  sefior." 

Father  Esteban  tried  to  look  very  much  aston- 
ished at  this  news,  but  Josh's  keen,  blue  eyes  were 
upon  him,  and  he  felt  at  greater  disadvantage 
than  at  any  previous  time  in  his  rather  successful 
clerical  life.  He  was  determined  to  carry  this 
affair  through  with  patience  and  skill,  however, 
for  the  higher  powers  in  La  Providencia,  had  ex- 
pressed themselves  as  entirely  satisfied  with  his 
promise  to  manage  the  Vera  affair  with  wisdom 
and  prudence.  So  he  only  exclaimed  in  mild  sur- 
prise : 

"  At  an  end,  senora  !  Ah,  you  are  thinking  of 
the  rains  of  the  past  weeks  and  of  the  cold.  Now 
that  both  are  over  for  a  season,  we  shall  go  ahead 
with  renewed  zeal.  Is  that  not  what  you  mean, 
Senora  Vera  ?  ' ' 

"  Senor,  my  mother  meant  only  what  she  said," 
answered  Jose",  before  Raquel  could  reply.  "  The 
building  is  at  an  end.  I  remarked  awhile  ago, 
sefior,  you  will  remember,  that  you  had  not 
changed.  Now  we  wish  to  tell  you  that  it  is  we 
who  have  changed,  and  for  this  reason  I  did  not 
wish  you  to  leave  the  house  until  you  understood 
us  perfectly.  My  mother  and  sister  would  like  to 
tell  you,  what  I  shall  do  for  them,  that  they  are  no 
longer  Roman  Catholics,  having  embraced  the 
evangelical  form  of  belief,  and  I  am  with  them 
with  all  my  heart." 


THE  PRIEST  BAFFLED.  261 

Padre  Esteban  almost  gasped  at  this  glaring 
confirmation  of  Don  Gregorio's  suspicions  with  re- 
gard to  the  women,  and  with  the  added  shock  of 
Jose's  declaration  as  to  himself. 

"  So  you  see,  senor,  why  the  building  of  the 
chapel  has  come  to  an  end ;  also,  perhaps,  why  I 
cannot  be  expected  to  confess  to  you,  "Jose  con- 
cluded. 

' '  I  never  expected  you  to  do  such  a  thing, 
Don  Jose","  replied  Esteban,  with  some  heat; 
"you  have  never  confessed  to  me,  and  I  should 
have  let  you  take  your  own  headstrong  way. 
But  these  dear  ones  here,"  his  voice  changing 
to  sadness  ;  ' '  oh,  my  friends,  is  it  possible 
that  I  have  heard  aright?  Can  i't  be  that  you 
are  going  to  allow  yourselves  to  be  torn  from  the 
bosom  of  the  holy  mother  church  by — by  this 
woman,  of  whom  you  know  nothing,  who  comes 
here  and  upsets  the  minds  of  the  whole  commun- 
ity with  her  deceitful " 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  man  !  "  cried  Jose",  goaded 
to  anger  by  this  attack  on  the  woman  who  was 
sacred  to  him.  u  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  added, 
hastily,  "  but  I  think  we  may  leave  the  Senorita 
Summers  out  of  this  question  ;  at  least  I  beg  you 
to  speak  respectfully  of  her,  or  not  at  all." 

Padre  Esteban  shrugged  his  shoulders  expres- 
sively, and  his  pale  face  flushed,  but  his  policy  was 
to  be  as  cool  as  possible  ;  sx>  he  only  noticed  Jose*'s 
qualification  of  his  first  remark  by  a  cold  nod,  and 


262  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

continued  addressing  the  two  women.  Don  Edu- 
ardo  was  watching  the  faces  about  him  with  sharp 
eyes,  and  straining  his  ears  to  hear  more  than 
came  to  him  when  their  voices  were  raised  in 
moments  of  excitement.  Seeing  his  intent  expres- 
sion, Raquel  left  her  seat  for  one  at  the  old  man's 
side,  and  laying  one  hand  upon  his,  was  careful 
during  the  rest  of  the  conversation  to  speak  so 
that  he  could  hear. 

"Rumors  had  already  reached  me,  senora,  of 
certain  expressions  of  yours  which  would  have 
given  me  uneasiness  but  for  my  utter  confidence 
in  your  fidelity  to  the  church  and  to  your  vows. 
And  I  am  come  here  now,"  the  priest  added,  with 
a  tinge  of  severity  in  his  tone,  though  his  eyes 
were  downcast  before  Jose's  gaze,  "with  the 
authority  of  the  canons  of  the  church,  whom  I  left 
in  La  Providencia  in  grave  unrest  concerning 
your  defection." 

"In  La  Providencia?"  interrupted  Jose",  who 
was  tired  of  all  this  useless  duplicity.  "  You  said 
that  you  came  from  the  other  direction." 

"Did  I  not  say  La  Providencia?"  retorted  the 
priest  "  Certainly  I  left  them  in  conclave  there, 

when  I  departed  to  go  to  S ,  on  a  matter  of 

equal  importance  with  this  business.  It  has  not 
been  so  very  long,  Don  Jose",  that  I  cannot  remem- 
ber the  grave  and  even  threatening  expression  of 
their  faces,  as  they  charged  me  to  return  to  them 
by  way  of  San  Bernabe. 


THE  PRIEST  BAFFLED.  263 

"  He  is  a  clever  rascal,  after  all,"  sighed  Jose". 

"  As  I  was  saying,  when  Jose"  became  particular 
to  hear  the  details  of  my  route  hither,"  the  priest 
continued,  "  I  am  charged  by  the  higher  officers 
of  the  district  to  which  San  Beriiabe  belongs,  to 
carry  to  them  a  true  account  of  the  sentiments  of 
your  family  toward  the  most  Holy  Church. ' ' 

"  Senor,  I  fear  that  you  did  not  understand  my 
son,  nor  me,"  interposed  Raquel,  "although  it  is 
difficult  to  be  more  plain.  I  have  become  con- 
vinced of  my  errors  of  belief  in  what  I  know  is  a 
form  of  faith  contrary  to  the  teaching  of  the 
Bible,  and  I  have  resolved  to  follow  what  I  know 
must  be  the  truth,  as  I  have  found  it  in  the  Bible. 
I  shall  join  the  Baptist  church,  to  which  my  hus- 
band already  belongs,  on  the  first  opportunity." 

"And  I  also,  senor,"  added  Petra. 

"  And  I  also,"  repeated  Josh's  deep  voice. 

"  Yes,  friend  Esteban,"  chimed  in  the  old  father, 
who  understood  thoroughly  the  point  now  reached, 
"  we  are  now  a  united  family,  and  we  shall  try  to 
serve  our  God  in  simplicity  and  honesty  for  the 
rest  of  our  lives." 

"Is  this  final?"  asked  the  priest,  after  a  mo- 
ment of  silence,  while  his  thin  lips  worked  with 
suppressed  anger. 

"It  is  final,"  replied  Jose,  briefly. 

"  And  the  chapel,  Sefiora  Vera?  " 

"  The  building  will  be  put  to  some  other  use, 
senor,"  replied  Raquel. 


264  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"  Then,"  said  the  priest,  rising-,  "  there  is  no 
further  use  of  our  speaking  together.  I  shall  pass 
the  night  at  the  house  of  my  friend.  Dona  Rosa, 
your  daughter-in-law,"  laying  particular  emphasis 
on  the  word  "friend." 

"  Your  room  is  ready,  Serior  Lopez,  if  you  care 
to  remain  with  us.  It  is  quite  late  now,"  re- 
marked Raquel,  hospitably. 

"Thanks,  senora,"  he  replied,  "I  could  not 
sleep  here,  I  fear,  and  I  find  myself  quite  fatigued 
from  my  long  journey,  so  I  will  bid  you  good- 
night." 

Jose"  accompanied  the  man  to  the  gates  and  not 
a  word  was  exchanged  until  they  were  about  to 
part.  Then  Jose*  remarked  with  some  emphasis : 

"  If  there  is  to  be  any  more  discussion  of  this 
matter,  sefior,  let  it  be  with  me.  The  women  in 
there  have  expressed  their  intentions  plainly 
enough.  They  need  not  come  into  this  any  more. 
You  will  kindly  refer  to  me  any  one  who  may  not 
sufficiently  understand  our  position. " 

"Certainly,  Jose*,"  Esteban  responded,  amica- 
bly. "  Yet  do  not  suppose  for  an  instant  that  I 
do  not  understand  perfectly  the  reasons  for  your 
conversion  to  the  Protestant  faith."  The  tone  in 
which  he  spoke  was  so  full  of  meaning  that  Jose" 
could  not  fail  to  understand  its  significance.  He 
held  his  peace,  however,  and  contented  himself 
with  saying,  before  he  closed  and  barred  the  gates 
behind  his  visitor : 


THE  PRIEST  BAFFLED.  265 

"It  is  only  fair  to  tell  you,  sefior,  that  I 
heard  a  part  of  your  conversation  with  Don  Gre- 
gorio  yesterday  in  the  church  in  La  Providencia, 
and  that  I  shall  be  upon  my  guard  accordingly." 
This  admission  was  not  very  wise,  perhaps,  but 
Jose  could  not  resist  the  opportunity  for  giving 
this  last  sting. 

' '  Cursed  ingrate  ! ' '  muttered  the  priest.  And  he 
ground  his  teeth  with  rage,  as  the  gates  closed 
behind  him,  and  he  turned  his  steps  toward  Dona 
Rosa's  house. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

PRAYERS  TO  THE  SAINTS. 

Definite  work  is  not  always  that  which  is  cut  and  squared  for  us, 
bat  that  which  comes  as  a  claim  upon  the  conscience,  whether  it  is 
nursing  in  a  hospital,  or  hemming  a  handkerchief. — E.  M.  Sewell. 

'  T  T  is  nice  to  be  getting  well,  Senorita  Maria, 

-i-  even  though  I  do  look  such  a  fright," 
Angela  remarked  one  afternoon,  after  Jose*  had 
been  gone  a  few  days.  Mary  had  been  persuaded 
to  defer  her  return  to  San  Bernabe  awhile  longer, 
as  Angela's  comfort  still  depended,  in  a  great 
degree,  upon  her  care. 

"Are  you  a  fright,  Angela?"  Mary  asked. 
"  How  do  you  know  that,  child?  " 

"  Because  I  made  Filipa  bring  me  a  mirror  this 
morning,  while  you  and  mamma  were  at  break- 
fast, and  I  saw  myself.  How  horrible  I  am  with 
these  great,  dry  scabs  and  red  splotches  all  over 
my  face  and  hands ! " 

They  were  alone  in  Angela's  room,  and  the  sick 
girl  lay  propped  upon  two  or  three  pillows,  watch- 
ing her  friend,  who  was  seated  at  her  side,  sewing. 
The  latter  had  recovered  her  bloom  and  cheerful- 
ness with  Angela's  returning  health,  and  her 
patient  watched  with  pleasure  the  white  hands 
266 


PRAYERS  TO  THE  SAINTS.  267 

that  were  engaged  in  making  a  little  black  silk 
cap  for  the  bare,  shaved  head  resting  upon  the 
pillows. 

"  Do  you  know  what  my  first  prayer  shall  be, 
senorita,  when  I  am  able  to  cross  the  plaza  to  the 
church  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed,  Angela,  I  cannot  imagine.  I 
know  what  my  first  prayer  would  be  on  recovering 
from  sickness ;  but  I  do  not  think  I  should  wait  to 
be  able  to  go  to  church  before  praying." 

"  Oh,  but  we  are  different,  you  know.  Now, 
as  you  would  never  guess  it,  I  am  going  to  tell 
you.  I  shall  go  to  the  little  chapel  of  Our  lyady 
of  Solitude,  where  the  picture  shows  her  walking 
away  so  sadly  from  the  cross  after  the  crucifixion, 
and  stepping  along  exactly  in  the  bloody  foot- 
prints that  our  Lord  made  on  the  way  to  Calvary, 
and  I  shall  ask  her  to — what  do  you  think? — to 
make  my  new  hair  grow  out  beautiful  and  golden 
like  yours !  There,  you  will  laugh  at  me ! " 

"  No,  dear  Angela,  I  am  not  laughing,  for  I 
feel  very  little  like  doing  so. " 

"Why,  you  look  sorry,  senorita !  What  have  I 
said  to  grieve  you  ?  You  do  not  know  how  hard  it  is 
to  lose  all  my  good  looks,"  and  the  girl's  voice 
trembled.  "It  does  not  matter  so  much  while 
you  are  here  with  me,  but  soon  you  will  be  gone, 
and  I  shall  never  want  to  go  to  San  Bernabe* 
again." 

"Why  not,  Angela ?  "  Mary  asked,  gently. 


268  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"  Because  Jose  will  never  like  to  look  at  me 
again!  There,  I  have  told  you,"  burying  her 
poor,  scarred  face  in  the  pillow.  "But  if  the 
holy  virgin  would  only  give  me  hair  like  yours, 
perhaps  he  would  not  mind  the  rest." 

"Angela,"  replied  Mary,  gravely,  "I  think 
we  must  talk  a  little  about  this.  Tell  me,  dear 
child,  do  you  really  believe  that  if  you  should 
pray  all  the  days  of  your  life,  before  a  picture  of 
Mary  the  mother  of  Jesus,  you  would  have  an 
answer  to  your  prayer  ?  " 

"I  do  not  think  you  understand,  senorita," 
interrupted  Dona  Isabel,  who  had  entered  quietly, 
and  now  sat  down  by  her  daughter's  side.  "We 
do  not  expect  anything  from  the  pictures  of  Mary 
when  we  pray  before  them." 

"But  mamma,"  exclaimed  Angela,  eagerly, 
"the  pictures  of  saints  do  indeed  work  wondrous 
miracles  sometimes.  Do  you  not  know  that  our 
tortilla  woman  always  sells  all  of  her  tortillas  on 
the  days  that  she  turns  the  Black  Saint  face  down- 
ward upon  the  floor  and  tramples  upon  him  ?  " 

"Why,  Angela,  I  never  heard  of  that  super- 
stition before.  What  is  it,  Dona  Isabel?"  asked 
Mary,  laughing. 

"  You  may  laugh,  senorita  ;  but  it  is  said  to  be 
true  of  the  Black  Saint  that  he  is  propitiated  by 
disrespect,  just  as  all  the  rest  must  be  treated  with 
honor  and  deference.  Have  you  never  heard  the 
story  of  th*  Black'  Saint  ?  " 


PRAYERS  TO  THE  SAINTS.  269 

"No,"  replied  Mary,  "but  I  should  like  to 
hear  it." 

"It  is  said  that  San  Benito  of  Palermo  was  so 
very  beautiful  that  he  was  constantly  interrupted 
in  his  devotions  and  meditations  by  ladies  who 
were  in  love  with  him,  and  who  were  always 
seeking  opportunities  of  being  in  his  company ; 
and  so  great  were  the  jealousies  caused  by  all  this 
that  he  finally  prayed  to  God  to  make  him  so 
hideously  ugly  that  he  might  be  left  in  peace  by 
the  women.  His  prayer  was  answered,  and  he 
waked  one  morning  to  find  himself  as  black  and 
ugly  as  he  could  wish.  And  after  that  he  was 
let  alone  by  his  sweethearts  and  became  the  most 
devout  of  all  the  saints.  I  do  not  understand  the 
reason  of  it,  but  we  are  taught  that  his  picture 
must  be  treated  with  all  manner  of  contempt  in 
order  to  propitiate  him." 

"  Sometimes  he  is  buried  in  the  ash  pile,"  added 
Angela,  smiling  in  spite  of  herself.  "And  Filipa 
says  that  the  tortilla  woman  grinds  him  in  the 
dirt  under  her  foot  before  she  goes  to  market." 

"  But  surely,  Dona  Isabel,  you  do  not  believe  in 
this  ?  ' '  asked  Mary,  incredulously.  ' '  I  know  that 
the  most  ignorant  have  these  strange,  unnatural 
beliefs  in  the  power  of  certain  images  and  pictures ; 
but  you  are  different." 

"  Well,  senorita,"  replied  the  woman,  cautiously, 
"  I  cannot  exactly  say  that  I  believe  such  tales, 
for  I  have  never  had  any  proof  of  their  truth  ;  yet 


270  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

neither  can  I  say  that  they  may  not  be  true,  after 
all.  Who  knows?" 

"  What  is  your  idea  then  in  worshiping  these 
images  and  pictures  here  in  this  house  and  in  the 
church?" 

"Ah,  that  is  quite  simple;  we  do  not  worship 
the  picture,  we  are  only  praying  to  the  saint  whom 
the  picture  represents.  The  picture  gives  us 
something  real  to  fix  our  eyes  upon  while  we  pray 
to  the  invisible  one.  Do  you  see?  And  it  makes 
it  easier." 

"Then  you  think  of  these  representations  as 
portraits  of  those  who  have  been  dead  for  ages  and 
ages,  or  have  never  existed  at  all  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly,  senorita,"  replied  the  woman, 
with  a  slightly  puzzled  face.  It  was  easy  for  her 
to  think  that  she  understood  all  this  herself,  but 
the  young  lady's  question  seemed  a  little  hard  to 
answer,  and  Angela  was  listening  attentively. 

"Of  course,  it  would  not  be  possible  to  know 
just  the  exact  features  of  one  who  had  been  dead 
so  long  as  you  say,"  Isabel  continued;  "but  the 
histories  tell  a  great  deal  about  them,  and  it  does 
not  so  much  matter,  after  all,  whether  they  are 
good  likenesses  or  not  if  the  saints  themselves 
were  good  men  and  women  and  worthy  to  be 
examples  for  us,"  she  ended,  a  little  triumphantly, 
yet  wistfully. 

"  I  agree  with  you  so  far  as  that  goes,"  assented 
the  young  missionary,  who  had  laid  her  work 


PRAYERS  TO  THE  SAINTS.  271 

down  now,  and  was  looking  into  Dona  Isabel's 
face  with  a  thoughtful  expression  in  her  dark-blue 
eyes.  "  I  am  sure  it  will  be  of  little  consequence 
to  us  after  we  are  dead  what  kind  of  pictures  are 
made  of  us,  if  after  all  we  have  led  good  and 
honest  lives  here.  But  Dona  Isabel,  it  seems  to 
me  that  the  important  question  is,  not  whether 
the  pictures  are  good  likenesses  or  not,  but  rather, 
is  any  one  right  in  praying  to  these  pictures  as  the 
ignorant  certainly  do,  or  in  praying  to  Mary  and 
the  saints,  as  you  call  Paul  and  Peter  and  others, 
through  these  pictures  as  you  do  ?  Is  not  this  the 
question  for  us?  " 

"Why  should  it  be  wrong,  senorita?"  asked 
Angela,  as  her  mother  was  silent. 

' '  What  is  forbidden  by  God  must  be  wrong  ;  is 
it  not  so,  Angela  ?  ' ' 

"Of  course,"  replied  the  girl,  readily. 

"This  is  not  forbidden,"  said  Isabel;  "the 
priests  teach  us  to  offer  such  prayers." 

"Have  you  ever  read  God's  law,  Dona  Isabel?" 

"  No,"  she  acknowledged. 

"  Nor  the  teachings  of  our  Saviour  on  the  sub- 
ject of  worship  and  prayer?" 

"  No,"  she  replied  again. 

"  Nor  the  letters  that  the  apostles  wrote  to  the 
little  churches  which  were  established  through  the 
country  after  the  Lord's  death?  " 

"No,  I  have  read  nothing  of  all  that.  I  have 
read  the  lives  of  the  saints,  which  tell  of  wonder- 


272  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

ful  things  wrought  by  them  when  alive  and  after 
death.  It  is  all  very  interesting,  is  it  not,  An- 
gela?" 

"  Do  yon  know  that  they  are  true  accounts  of 
these  lives?  " 

"  I  cannot  say  ;  but  I  suppose  I  know  as  much 
about  them  as  you  can  about  the  sayings  of  Christ 
and  of  the  apostles.  They  lived  before  most  of 
the  saints  ! " 

"  Yes,  that  is  true  ;  but  you  know  the  Bible, 
which  contains  all  that  I  have  mentioned,  was 
inspired  by  God, — even  your  priests  acknowledge 
that, — and  it  contains  the  expression  of  his  will 
toward  us.  We  should  always  obey  that  will. 
There  may  be  mistakes  in  all  that  men  write  and 
teach,  but  God  never  makes  a  mistake.  He 
teaches  us  that  it  is  robbing  him  to  give  honor  and 
worship  to  others  in  his  stead.  We  disobey  him 
when  we  ascribe  to  others  the  divine  power  of 
forgiveness,  and  we  pain  him  every  time  we  put 
another  in  his  place  of  sovereignty  over  us." 

"  Of  course  I  know  that  God  is  all-powerful,  and 
that  there  is  none  greater,"  said  Isabel,  thought- 
fully, and  Mary  could  see  that  she  was  beginning 
to  understand  her  thought 

"  Then  why  offer  prayers  to  Mary,  who  was  just 
as  human  as  you  and  I  are,  when  God  is  ready  to 
hear  all  our  petitions  and  when  his  Son  spent  his 
earthly  life  for  us  and  '  ever  lives  to  make  inter- 
cession for  us '  ?  I  know  how  you  feel  about  it, 


PRAYERS  TO  THE  SAINTS.  273 

that  it  is  easier  to  approach  a  woman  and  tell  your 
needs  to  her,  and  that  she  may  bear  them  to  her 
Son ;  but  my  dear  friend,  what  did  Mary  do  on  earth 
to  prove  her  love  for  you  ?  I  doubt  whether  she 
ever  thought  much  about  the  coming  generations 
who  were  to  be  saved  by  her  Son's  life  and  death. 
She  recognized  him  as  the  Saviour  of  the  world, 
and  as  her  Saviour,  it  is  true,  but  she  loved  him 
also  with  a  deep,  human  love,  just  such  love  as  you 
have  for  Angela  here.  The  Bible  tells  us  almost 
nothing  about  Mary,  and  anything  more  than 
what  it  tells  is  pure  legend  and  superstition.  I 
want  you  to  try  and  believe  this,  Dona  Isabel,  for 
you  know  that  I  could  not  tell  you  an  untruth, 
and  even  many  of  the  priests  know  the  teachings 
of  the  Bible  about  this  as  well  as  I  do." 

"  They  do  not  care  for  us  to  read  the  Bible,  I 
know,"  admitted  Dona  Isabel. 

"  And  you  can  very  well  understand  why  they  do 
not  if  I  am  right  in  what  I  tell  you.  You  would 
read,  in  one  place,  where  Paul  is  writing  to  Timo- 
thy, '  There  is  one  God  and  one  Mediator  between 
God  and  man,  the  man  Christ  Jesus?  What  room 
do  you  find  here  for  Jesus'  mother,  or  for  the 
saints,  as  mediators?" 

"  Then  the  Virgin  Mary  is  really  no  more  than 
any  other  mother  ;  do  you  believe  that,  senorita  ? 
Impossible  !  "  exclaimed  Isabel. 

"  Of  course,  I  do  not  expect  in  one  day  to  con- 
vince you  of  the  error  of  what  you  have  been 

s 


274  A    MEXICAN   RANCH. 

taught  all  your  life,  dear  friend,"  replied  Mary, 
gently  ;  "  I  wish  you,  however,  to  think  about 
what  we  have  said,  and  to  talk  with  me  freely.  I 
can  only  tell  you  what  God's  word  says,  and  I 
think  that  if  you  can  believe  that  it  contains  the 
whole  truth,  you  will  be  more  than  willing  to 
follow  it.  Am  I  right?" 

"Yes,"  Isabel  admitted  slowly,  "I  suppose  I 
can  agree  to  that.  We  ought  all  to  wish  to  know 
the  truth." 

"  Would  I  not  be  glad  to  catch  Padre  Esteban  in 
a  downright  lie  ?  "  and*  Angela  laughed,  gleefully. 
Then  her  face  fell  as  she  exclaimed,  pathetically  : 
"But  then,  senorita,  what  about  my  hair?  If  I 
cannot  pray  to  Mary,  if  she  has  no  power  to  answer 
my  prayer,  what  shall  I  do  ?  And  then,  suppose 
it  never  grows  again,  at  all  ?  " 

"Angela,  there  is  always  God,  who  will  hear 
your  prayers.  But,  I  do  not  believe  that  you 
would  go  to  your  own  mother  even,  with  an  abso- 
lutely foolish  request,  would  you,  asking  for  some- 
thing which  could  not  possibly  do  you  any  good, 
nor  make  you  any  happier  ?  Come,  now,  let  us  try 
to  understand  this.  God  is  our  Father,  patient, 
loving,  kind,  and  wise  ;  more  so  than  any  earthly 
father  can  be.  Before  making  any  requests  of  him 
we  do  not  have  to  trouble  ourselves  with  the 
question  as  to  whether  the  answer  we  wish  be 
possible  or  not,  for  God  is  all-powerful.  But  we 
must  try  to  be  sensible  human  beings,  and  in 


PRAYERS  TO  THE  SAINTS.  275 

making  requests  of  him  not  treat  him  as  if  we 
were  the  only  persons  in  the  world,  and  as  if  God 
had  no  laws  of  his  own.  We  may  tell  him  freely 
our  needs  and  our  desires,  and  we  may  be  sure 
that  we  shall  have  an  answer  of  some  kind,  if  not 
exactly  what  we  may  have  expected.  He  under- 
stands us  better  than  we  do  ourselves,  and  knows, 
before  we  ask  him,  what  we  desire  to  have ;  but 
he  is  our  Father,  and  likes  to  have  us  go  to  him 
in  trust  and  love  with  our  desires,  just  as  your 
mother  likes  for  you  to  express  your  wishes  to  her, 
and  the  answer  will  come,  you  may  be  sure.  You 
may  ask  him  for  yello^  hair,  and  he  could  give  it 
to  you,  but  you  would  soon  be  very  sorry  for  such 
a  gift.  You  would  be  more  of  a  '  fright '  than  you 
are  now,  Angela." 

"  Would  I  ?  "  questioned  the  girl,  shamefacedly. 

' '  Yes,  dear,  with  your  brown  skin  and  black 
eyes  and  red  cheeks  your  own  dark  hair  is  very 
becoming,  while  my  hair  would  make  you  a  curi- 
osity. I  like  you  best  just  as  you  are,  or  as  you 
will  be  when  the  short,  black  curls  begin  to  grow 
all  over  your  head  and  the  red  scars  all  fade  away. 
Still,  understand  me,  Angela,  I  do  not  mean  to 
say  that  you  may  not  go  to  God  with  any  desire 
of  your  heart,  if  you  only  go  with  earnestness  and 
trust  in  him  that  he  will  do  what  is  best  and 
right." 

' '  I  only  thought  that  the  virgin  would  be  so 
much  more  interested  in  me,  a  young  girl,  than 


276  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

her  Son  could  be,"  said  Angela,  ruefully.  "  And 
I  am  so  ugly  now  !  "  Two  tears  escaped  from  the 
poor,  inflamed  eyes  and  rolled  down  her  stiff", 
swollen  cheeks. 

"There,  my  little  darling,"  murmured  the 
mother,  bending  over  her  daughter  and  stroking 
her  head  tenderly,  u  your  mother  and  your  father 
love  you  just  as  you  are,  and  so  does  the  senorita. 
I  will  not  have  your  poor  eyes  full  of  tears.  Do 
you  not  know  that  before  very  long  all  these  scabs 
will  fall  away  and  then  the  redness  will  leave,  and 
we  hope  you  will  not  have  very  many  scars,  for 
Maria  has  taken  such  good  care  of  your  poor  face 
and  hands." 

u  Who  told  you  how  to  do  it,  senorita  ?  "  Angela 
asked,  presently.  "  Here  we  often  have  small- 
pox, but  I  never  heard  of  any  one  who  was  not 
badly  scarred." 

1 '  God  helped  me,  Angela,  by  giving  me  oppor- 
tunities to  learn  about  a  great  many  kinds  of  sick- 
nesses. Perhaps  you  will  pray  to  him  now  to 
make  you  quite  well  and  not  to  destroy  all  your 
beauty,  and  then  how  wonderful  to  think  that  it 
may  be  that  he  was  preparing  to  answer  your 
prayer  years  ago  when  he  was  helping  me  to  study 
about  small-pox  in  the  hospital,  and  much  farther 
back  than  that,  for  he  can  begin  to  answer  prayers 
thousands  of  years  before  they  are  prayed.  Is  it 
not  wonderful  ?  And  could  anybody  but  God  do 
that?" 


PRAYERS  TO  THE  SAINTS.  277 

"No,  indeed!"  declared  Angela.  "And 
mamma,  do  you  not  see  what  a  muddle  every- 
thing would  get  into  if  those  dead  men,  the  saints, 
had  it  to  manage?  Suppose  Anita,  next  door, 
would  pray  to  Saint  Antonio  that  it  might  rain, 
and  I  should  be  begging  that  it  might  not,  what 
would  the  poor  man  do  between  us  ?  I  suppose 
God  would  know  how  to  manage  much  better. ' ' 

' '  Hush,  Angela, ' '  said  the  mother,  who  began 
to  feel  uneasy  lest  the  conversation  had  gone  too 
far,  and  a  little  uncertain  as  to  the  points  which 
she  had  been  induced  to  concede.  "  Of  course  you 
know  that  the  saints,  and  Mary  too,  only  intercede 
for  us  with  God.  It  is  he  who  rules  the  universe, 
of  course." 

"  Then  let  us  go  to  him  directly  and  not  through 
others,  Dona  Isabel,"  pleaded  Mary.  "I  shall 
give  you  a  text  to  think  about  while  I  go  out  for 
a  walk,  Angela,  as  the  sun  is  so  warm  and 
bright.  This  is  it :  '  Whatsoever  ye  shall  ask 
in  my  name,  that  will  I  do. '  These  are  Jesus'  own 
words  and  we  need  nothing  more  than  this  to 
teach  us  that  God  will  hear  every  petition  we  may 
carry  to  him,  and  that  the  answer  will  come 
according  to  his  will.  And  now,  good-bye  for  a 
little  while.  Will  you  not  come  also,  Dona 
Isabel,"  she  asked,  remembering  Josd's  advice  and 
willing  to  sacrifice  her  own  choice  to  please  the 
woman,  who  was  looking  thoughtful  and  even  a 
little  sad. 


278  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"I  cannot  let  you  both  go  at  once,"  objected 
Angela,  nervously,  and  the  mother  declined  Mary's 
invitation  at  once  She  followed  her  outside  the 
door,  however,  and  whispered,  hurriedly  : 

' '  I  believe  that  what  you  have  said  is  all  true, 
senorita,  or  at  least  that  it  is  better  doctrine  for 
mothers  and  young  girls  than  what  the  padres 
teach  them.  I  have  just  begun  to  think  about  it 
lately  since  Angela  has  been  going  to  confession, 
and  I  believe  that  the  God  you  have  been  telling 
us  about  is  safer  for  a  young  girl's  confessor  than 
a  handsome  young  man,  priest  though  he  may  be. 
Do  not  say  that  I  have  told  you  this,  however  ; 
the  child  must  not  know,  nor  her  father,  but  I  am 
thinking  and  watching  all  the  time." 

"  And  God  will  help  you  to  learn  the  truth, 
Dona  Isabel,  if  you  ask  him.  If  I  am  sure  of 
anything,  it  is  that  he  is  ready  to  direct  all  those 
who  really  wish  to  do  his  will." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

LEARNING   AN   AVE   MARIA. 

Through  all  my  little  daily  cares  there  is 
One  thought  that  comfort  brings  whene'er  it  comes  : 
'Tis  this  :   God  knows. 

— H.  M.  Kimball. 

rPHE  bright  December  sunshine  made  even  the 
1  narrow,  paved  streets  of  the  little  town  in- 
viting, as  Miss  Summers  stepped  out  upon  the 
cobblestones.  La  Providencia  was  exactly  like  a 
hundred  other  small  towns  of  Mexico.  The  houses, 
all  of  one  story,  presented  an  unbroken  line  of 
stuccoed  wall,  from  street  corner  to  street  corner, 
with  barred  windows  and  heavy  double  doors. 
Some  houses  were  colored  blue,  others  yellow,  or 
green,  or  brown ;  and  in  the  more  pretentious  ones, 
there  was  usually  a  small  door  cut  in  one  of  the 
large  double  doors,  which  could  be  used  on  ordi- 
nary occasions  of  exit  or  of  entrance  like  the 
"  needle's  eye  "  of  the  walls  and  houses  of  Pales- 
tine. Often  the  double  entrances  were  not  thrown 
open  for  years,  and  then  only  when  a  coach  was 
to  be  stabled  in  the  paved  hallway.  At  most  of 
the  street  corners  there  was  a  wine  shop  where 
small  groceries  were  also  sold,  while  the  other 
shops  were  ranged,  facing  the  small  plaza  in  front 

279 


280  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

of  Dona  Isabel's  house.  The  church  of  San  An- 
tonio also,  as  has  been  said,  looked  upon  this  open 
square,  as  did  the  post-office,  a  house  not  unlike  all 
the  other  houses  of  the  town,  except  that  it  bore 
a  flag-staff  upon  the  roof  over  the  entrance.  One- 
half  of  this  house  was  occupied  by  the  hotel,  and 
the  two  departments  were  divided  by  a  great,  paved 
hallway  leading  from  the  street  back  into  a  paved 
court.  This  court,  having  a  large  fountain  in 
the  center,  was  half  filled  with  a  stage  coach,  car- 
riages, carts,  donkeys,  and  dogs.  From  the  plaza, 
which  occupied  the  center  of  the  town,  all  the 
streets  branched  off,  and  finally  terminated  in  a 
country  lane  or  were  brought  to  a  dead  stop 
against  some  garden  wall.  There  were  no  side- 
walks at  all,  except  the  one  surrounding  the  plaza  ; 
and  though  horses  and  vehicles  were  expected  to 
keep  in  the  middle  of  the  way,  and  human  beings 
on  the  sides  next  to  the  houses,  the  order  was  often 
reversed,  and  great,  brawny  women  cried  their  hot 
corn,  or  goat's  milk  cheese,  from  the  very  middle 
of  the  street,  while  donkeys,  laden  with  sacks  of 
charcoal,  left  traces  of  their  burden  upon  the  walls 
of  the  houses  as  they  squeezed  by. 

The  streets  were  full  of  people,  and  animated 
vociferations,  as  here  and  there  a  drove  of  don- 
keys threatened  to  monopolize  the  way,  when  the 
young  teacher  crossed  the  plaza  and  then  took  a 
street  leading  to  the  market  square,  a  few  blocks 
farther  on.  Once  she  had  to  take  refuge  in  a 


LEARNING  AN  AVE   MARIA.  28 1 

doorway  from  a  flock  of  kids  driven  by,  and  on 
looking  over  her  shoulder  she  found  the  door 
opening  directly  into  a  dim  little  room,  where  a 
gray-haired  woman  sat  poring  over  a  little  book. 
The  woman  looked  up  as  a  shadow  fell  across  the 
page  she  was  reading,  and  on  seeing  Mary  stand- 
ing there,  smiling  down  upon  her,  she  smiled  too 
and  invited  her  to  enter. 

"  Come  in,  kuerita  (little  fair-haired  one),"  she 
insisted,  "  and  rest  awhile  in  my  poor  room." 

Nothing  loth,  she  accepted  the  invitation,  for 
the  sweet,  old  face  pleased  her,  with  its  coarse 
gray  hair  and  piercing  black  eyes — a  very  differ- 
ent face,  however,  from  old  Juana's  at  the  ranch. 
Old  age  in  Mexico  is  often  most  unlovely,  and 
even  revolting,  among  the  poorest  classes,  when 
the  dark,  withered  skin  stretched  over  the  aged 
frame  looks  like  soiled  brown  leather,  and  the 
nose  and  chin  meet  over  toothless,  mumbling 
mouths.  Yet  where  there  is  cleanliness  and  neat- 
ness of  dress  there  are  exceptions  to  this  rule, 
and  this  old  woman  looked  fresh  and  sweet  in  her 
clean  skirt  and  white  cotton  sacque.  She  was 
sitting  in  a  low  chair,  and  at  her  feet  was  a  basket 
filled  with  scraps,  from  which  she  had  been 
attempting  to  mend  a  man's  shirt.  The  shirt, 
however,  lay  neglected  upon  her  knee,  and  she 
had  been  intent  upon  her  reading  before  Mary's 
arrival.  The  latter  seated  herself  upon  a  stool 
and  waited  for  what  the  old  lady  would  say  next. 


282  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"  How  pretty  you  are,  little  one  !  "  were  the  first 
words.  "  Your  skin  is  like  milk  and  roses,  and 
your  eyes  are  like  a  little  bit  of  sky,  and  your 
hair  like  golden  threads.  Where  have  you  come 
from?" 

"  From  San  Bernabe,  mother.  Do  you  not 
know  the  big  ranch  of  the  Veras,  down  in  the 
plain  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  child.  I  have  never  heard  of  it,  for  I 
have  not  long  been  here.  My  son  brought  me 
here  only  a  few  weeks  ago,  from  our  own  little 
ranch  on  this  side  of  the  mountains,  and  I  know 
nothing  of  what  lies  on  the  other  side.  Ah," 
she  sighed,  ' '  the  sights  and  sounds  of  the  city 
weary  me  already,  and  I  long  to  get  back  to  my 
old  home.  But  I  like  to  hear  the  bells  of  the 
church  of  San  Antonio,  for  they  are  very  fine,  and 
the  picture  of  our  blessed  lady  is  more  beautiful 
than  any  I  ever  saw  before." 

"And  you  can  read,"  said  Mary ;  "  that  helps 
you  to  pass  the  time.  What  is  it  you  are  reading, 
mother?" 

"  Oh,  the  most  beautiful  account  of  our  lady 
of  the  rosary.  Only  look  at  this  picture,  senorita, 
and  see  the  beautiful  virgin  and  the  holy  Child 
letting  their  long  rosaries  down  into  the  pit — how 
deep  and  dark  it  is  !  " 

"But  what  does  it  mean?  I  never  saw  this 
picture  before." 

"Impossible!     But  I  will  tell  you,  and  then 


LEARNING  AN  AVE   MARIA.  283 

you  will  count  your  beads  with  more  zeal  than 
ever,  little  one.  The  deep,  dark  pit  is  limbo,  and 
that  you  know  is  the  place  where  the  souls  of  all 
the  dead  babies  go,  if  they  have  not  been  bap- 
tized. There  is  a  great  darkness  there,  senorita, 
and  the  helpless  little  ones  suffer  so  horribly  in  the 
awful  darkness,  away  from  their  mothers,  and  the 
little  creatures  climb  and  climb  up  the  sides  of  the 
pit,  only  to  fall  back  again  into  the  deep,  dreadful 
blackness."  She  paused  for  breath,  and  her  voice 
was  trembling,  for  the  thought  of  limbo  is  one 
that  few  Roman  Catholic  mothers  can  dwell  upon 
with  calmness. 

"  How  dreadful  the  religion  that  teaches  such 
folly  and  misery  ! ' '  Mary  said  to  herself,  sighing. 
"But,  see  in  the  picture,  senorita,  how  some 
little  white  souls  are  clambering  up  out  of  the 
pit,  helped  by  the  rosaries  of  the  mother  and 
Child.  Look  how  lovely  Mary's  face  is,  and  how 
the  Child  is  smiling  down  upon  the  babies." 
"  And  are  all  saved  in  this  way  ?  "  Mary  asked. 
"  No,  senorita.  Only  the  children  of  mothers 
who  are  constant  in  telling  their  beads  and  com- 
plete the  whole  rosary  many  times  a  day.  My 
little  Margarita  died  an  hour  after  she  was  born, 
and  there  was  no  time  to  call  a  priest,  for  she  had 
seemed  a  likely  child.  When  they  told  me  my 
little  child  had  gone  to  limbo,  it  nearly  killed 
me,  for  she  was  my  first  baby,  and  I  could 
not  bear  to  think  of  the  tender  little  thing  cry- 


284  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

ing  down  there  in  the  dark  all  by  herself,  and 
I  used  to  think  I  heard  her  wailing  all  through 
the  dark  nights  and  the  sunny  days,  which  were 
all  the  same  to  my  baby  then.  I  had  been  gay 
and  thoughtless  before  her  birth,  and  cared  more 
for  my  husband  and  my  little  house  than  for  go- 
ing to  mass  and  confession  ;  but  all  was  changed 
after  my  baby  left  me,  and  I  took  to  my  beads 
with  the  greatest  zeal,  and  kept  candles  burning, 
night  and  day,  before  the  picture  of  our  lady  in 
our  sala,  and  I  stayed  in  the  chapel  all  day  long, 
on  my  knees,  except  when  I  had  to  prepare  my 
Juan's  meals.  Finally,  I  fell  sick  again,  with  fast- 
ing and  the  cold  of  the  church,  but  I  would  not 
leave  off  my  praying  until  the  padre  one  day  told 
me  that  he  had  had  a  vision,  in  which  he  saw  my 
Margarita  clasped  in  the  holy  mother's  arms  and 
sleeping  with  her  little  head  tucked  close  to  her 
bosom ;  then  I  knew  that  she  was  safe,  and  I 
soon  got  well  and  happy  again. " 

"  Mother,  could  you  believe  that  your  innocent 
little  one  was  anywhere  but  safe  in  heaven,  from 
the  moment  she  left  you?" 

"  Yes,  senorita  ;  because,  you  see,  she  had  not 
been  baptized,"  was  the  answer,  in  a  tone  of  set- 
tled conviction. 

"  And  I  suppose  you  tell  your  beads  still  for  the 
sake  of  other  miserable  little  souls? " 

"  Of  course  I  do,  and  for  my  own  sake  too  ;  do 
you  see  how  long  my  rosary  is  ?  The  flames  of 


LEARNING  AN  AVE  MARIA.  285 

purgatory  will  not  reach  to  my  waist,  for  my 
rosary  hangs  far  below  it.  I  hope  you  wear  yours 
long  also,  senorita,  and  are  very  careful  to  say  all 
your  ave  Marias  and  the  paternosters  every  night 
and  morning." 

' '  I  have  no  rosary  at  all,  Dona ,  what  may 

I  call  you?" 

"  Sofia,"  the  woman  replied. 

"  I  do  not  even  know  how  to  say  an  ave,  Dona 
Sofia,  though  I  do  know  the  Lord's  prayer." 

"  May  the  holy  saints  in  heaven  protect  us!  " 
exclaimed  Dona  Sofia,  in  consternation.  "Not 
know  an  ave,  why  you  must  be  a  pagan  ;  and  are 
they  all  so  in  the  ranch  where  you  came  from?  " 

Perhaps  any  other  person  in  town,  on  hearing 
Mary's  confession,  would  have  murmured  the 
hated  term  protestante,  but  Sofia  had  evidently 
never  heard  of  this  sect,  and  believed  all  the  world 
either  Roman  Catholics  or  pagans. 

"  I  shall  teach  you  the  ave  Maria,  my  dear  child, 
and  then  you  will  say  one  for  every  bead  until  you 
have  said  nine,  then  will  come  one  of  these  large 
beads  which  is  a  paternoster,  and  so  on  until  you 
come  around  to  where  you  started  ;  now,  listen : 
'  Hail,  most  holy  Mary,  mother  of  God,  pray  for 
us  sinners  now,  and  in  the  hour  of  our  death, 
Amen.'  See,  it  is  very  easy."  The  good  old 
woman  looked  eagerly  into  Mary's  eyes,  which 
were  filled  with  tears. 

"Dear  friend,"  she  said,  taking  in  hers   the 


286  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

brown,  wrinkled  hands  extended  to  her,  "  I  cannot 
say  that  prayer  to  Mary ;  I  pray  only  to  God.  No, 
do  not  interrupt  me,  please,  for  it  is  growing  very 
late  and  I  must  hurry  away.  I/et  me  come  to  see 
you  again  soon  and  I  will  then  tell  you  why  I 
must  pray  only  to  God.  I  am  not  a  pagan,  but  I 
do  not  worship  Mary  the  mother  of  Jesus.  Shall 
I  come  another  day  and  tell  you  all  about  it?  " 

"  Certainly,  senorita,  if  you  will  honor  my  poor 
home  by  coming,"  Sofia  replied,  with  a  puzzled 
face.  "  Perhaps  then  you  will  make  me  under- 
stand why  you  wear  no  rosary  and  do  not  even 
know  the  ave  Marta. ' ' 

"  Good  bye  then,  Dona  Sofia ;  I  shall  come 
again  to-morrow." 

She  left  the  old  woman  standing  nodding  good- 
bye in  the  doorway,  and  did  not  notice  a  man  in 
the  long,  black  garb  of  a  priest  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  street.  The  setting  sun  was  sending 
his  last  rays  in  a  blinding  glory  of  light  through 
the  street  as  she  kept  on  her  way  to  the  market- 
place. Angela  had  expressed  a  wish  for  a  banana, 
and  Mary  hoped  to  be  able  to  find  the  fruit  stalls 
still  open  ;  the  market,  in  fact,  presented  a  most 
busy  scene  at  this  hour,  and  in  the  crowd  of  people 
hustling  each  other,  she  attracted  little  notice, 
as  she  looked  about  her  for  the  fruit  she  wished. 
The  market  was  simply  a  roof,  supported  by 
numerous  stone  pillars  and  arches,  and  the  paved 
floor  was  raised  several  feet  above  the  four  streets 


LEARNING  AN  AVE   MARIA.  287 

surrounding  it,  and  was  reached  by  stone  steps  at 
each  of  the  four  corners.  It  was  but  a  small  place, 
and  Mary  had  made  almost  the  entire  circuit  of 
the  building  before  she  found  the  bananas.  The 
sun  had  set,  and  the  sudden  twilight  peculiar  to 
southern  lands  fell  over  the  city.  A  woman  was 
sitting  on  the  floor,  behind  a  white  cloth  spread 
on  the  stones,  and  containing  little  heaps  of  fruit 
— apples,  oranges,  and  bananas.  Mary  had  just 
completed  her  bargain  with  the  woman  and  had 
transferred  the  bananas  from  the  ground  to  her 
handkerchief,  when  she  saw  two  men  standing  in 
one  of  the  arches  near  by,  intent  upon  some  bar- 
gain with  a  neighboring  market  woman.  They 
would  not  have  called  forth  any  especial  attention 
from  her  except  that  they  wore  long  ulsters,  and 
one  of  them  a  soft,  felt  hat,  intensely  American 
(i.e.,  not  Mexican),  of  the  kind  styled  "knock- 
about." A  flaring  torch  was  just  then  stuck  into 
its  place  in  the  archway,  and  Mary  gave  a  start, 
and  almost  exclaimed  aloud  in  her  delight. 

She  went  nearer  the  two  gentlemen  and  laid  her 
hand  gently  on  the  gray  sleeve  next  her,  and  was 
rewarded  by  the  sight  of  a  start  equal  to  her  own, 
as  she  said : 

"  Mr.  Richards  !     How  glad  I  am  to  see  you  !  " 

"  Miss  Summers ! "  he  exclaimed,  in  amazement 
"Can  it  be  possible?" 

"  Indeed  it  is  I !  "  returned  Mary.  "And  I  am 
so  thankful  you  have  come.  You  are  needed 


288  A   MEXICAN  RANCH. 

greatly  now.  And  I  hope  you  will  take  ine  right 
on  with  yon  to  San  Bernabe." 

"  Yes,"  Mr.  Richards  replied.  ' '  But  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Douglas  ;  let  me  introduce  you  to  Miss 
Summers.  Miss  Summers,  our  new  missionary, 
Mr.  Douglas.  I  have  been  giving  him  a  bird's- 
eye  view  of  this  part  of  our  mission  field,  and  we 
intended  to  take  the  diligence  to-morrow  at  noon 
for  San  Bernabe." 

Mr.  Douglas  and  Mary  greeted  each  other  with 
the  warmth  that  ' '  strangers  in  a  strange  land ' ' 
often  feel  one  for  another,  and  then  they  left  the 
market  and  strolled  toward  Don  Ignacio's  house 
in  the  dusk.  They  did  not  pass  Dona  Sofia's 
house,  as  they  took  another  street ;  but  Mary  re- 
solved to  steal  a  moment  in  the  morning,  before 
leaving  town,  for  another  talk  with  her.  Mary's 
heart  was  lighter  than  it  had  been  for  many  weeks 
when  she  finally  laid  her  head  upon  her  pillow 
that  night.  Dona  Isabel  and  her  husband  had 
welcomed  the  gentlemen,  for  Mary's  sake,  and 
when  they  left  for  the  hotel  at  a  late  hour,  their 
plans  were  all  arranged  for  leaving  La  Providencia 
the  next  day.  Mary  slept  and  dreamed,  and  her 
dreams  were  bitter  and  sweet.  Once  she  seemed 
to  have  been  trying  for  ages  to  crawl  up  the  steep, 
slippery  sides  of  a  dark  pit,  in  vain,  while  old 
Juana  sat  at  the  mouth  and  grinned,  and  pushed 
her  back  whenever  she  seemed  about  to  escape. 
Then,  at  last,  a  man  with  a  shining  face  had  come 


LEARNING  AN  AVE  MARIA.  289 

to  the  edge,  and  calling  her  by  name,  had  reached 
down  and  helped  her  out  of  the  mire  and  darkness, 
but  the  hair  and  hazel  eyes  of  the  man  were  the 
hair  and  eyes  of  Roger  Douglas,  and  they  went 
walking  together,  hand  in  hand,  over  sunny, 
grassy  fields  which  seemed  to  have  no  end. 

The  next  morning  she  slipped  away  while  Dona 
Isabel  was  busy  with  Angela,  and  hurried  to  the 
door,  where  she  had  left  Dona  Sofia  waving  a 
farewell  the  evening  before.  The  door  was  closed, 
and  there  was  no  sign  of  any  occupant  within  ; 
Sofia  was  gone.1  Mary  was  sure  that  she  had 
made  no  mistake  in  the  house,  for  the  window 
next  door  contained  three  large  cages  of  noisy 
parrots.  She  had  noticed  them  yesterday,  as  she 
stood  watching  the  flock  of  kids  go  by,  and  now, 
as  a  woman's  head  appeared  between  the  two  lower 
cages,  she  resolved  to  question  her. 

"Yes,  Dona  Sofia  lived  there  yesterday,"  replied 
the  woman,  curtly,  and  with  rude  indifference, 
while  she  scanned  Mary  from  head  to  foot. 

'  Then  has  she  gone  to  market  ?  ' '  Mary  per- 
sisted, though  her  face  burned  at  the  woman's 
impudent  manner.  "  And  will  you  tell  her  when 
she  returns  that  I  came  again,  as  I  promised?  " 

"  She  will  not  return.  Her  son  came  and  took 
her  to  another  house  which  you  will  not  find,  I 
can  tell  you." 

"Why  did  she  leave,  will  you  tell  me?  " 


1  A  true  incident. 
T 


A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"  Because  she  entertained  the  evil  one  unawares, 
yesterday  afternoon,  and  her  son  and  the  Padre 
Diego  came  and  carried  her  away  where  he 
will  not  find  her.  Do  you  understand  ? "  the 
woman  concluded,  with  a  rude  laugh. 

Too  well  Mary  understood,  and  her  heart  was 
heavy  as  she  turned  away  from  the  woman,  whose 
jeering  tones  had  brought  several  other  heads  to 
the  neighboring  windows.  Why  had  she  not  said 
a  little  more  to  old  Sofia  while  there  was  an 
opportunity  ?  And  now  she  would  never  see  her 
again.  Still  she  had  done  what  had  seemed  to 
her  best,  not  knowing  what  would  happen  the  next 
day,  and  she  had  long  ago  learned  to  leave  her 
"  best"  in  her  Father's  hands. 

This  disappointment,  added  to  the  real  sorrow 
she  felt  at  leaving  Angela  and  the  rest  of  the 
family,  threw  such  a  grave  shadow  over  her  face 
that  when  the  hour  for  leaving  arrived  Mr.  Douglas 
could  scarcely  believe  it  was  the  same  face  that 
had  sparkled  at  him  and  laughed  in  the  market 
place  the  night  before. 

As  they  parted,  Dona  Isabel  whispered  into  her 
ear,  after  she  had  taken  leave  of  Angela,  sobbing 
in  her  bed : 

"  I  shall  send  her  to  you  when  she  is  well.  Her 
father  has  given  his  promise  that  she  may  go,  and 
you  will  come  to  us  again  some  day." 

"  And  meantime,  you  will  not  forget  all  we 
have  talked  about  by  your  little  daughter's  sick- 


LEARNING  AN  AVE   MARIA.  39! 

bed.  Read  the  Bible  I  have  given  to  Angela  and 
pray  to  God  alone  that  he  will  teach  you  the  truth. 
Do  you  promise,  Dona  Isabel  ?  " 

"With  all  my  heart,  seiiorita,"  she  replied. 

When  all  the  farewells  were  said,  the  diligence, 
which  had  stopped  at  Ignacio's  house  for  its  last 
passengers,  rumbled  off  down  the  street  and  toward 
the  river,  and  Mary  found  herself  turning  with  a 
yearning  heart  toward  San  Bernabe  and  the  dear 
friends  who  were  awaiting  her  there. 

During  the  journey  Mr.  Richards  was  posted  as 
to  the  state  of  things  at  the  ranch,  and  noticing  the 
young  missionary's  harassed  look  as  she  spoke  of 
the  priest's  dreaded  visit  and  of  the  chapel  ques- 
tion, he  felt  that  he  had  not  come  too  soon.  He 
would  carry  her  back  with  him  to  spend  the 
Christmas  holidays  with  his  wife  and  merry 
children. 

Roger  Douglas  thought  he  had  never  seen  a 
sweeter  face  than  the  one  which  looked  up  into 
Mr.  Richards',  as  he  proposed  this  plan,  and  Miss 
Summers  answered  : 

"  I  thank  you  very  much,  Mr.  Richards,  and  I 
do  long  to  hold  a  little  white  child  in  my  arms 
again  ;  but  I  cannot  leave  my  people  just  now. 
They  need  me,  and  you  know  you  gave  me  to 
them." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

HOME   AGAIN. 

Thou  art  my  King — 

My  king  henceforth  alone  ; 

And  I,  thy  servant,  Lord,  am  all  thine  own. 

Give  me  thy  strength  ;  oh  !  let  thy  dwelling  be 

In  this  poor  heart  that  pants,  my  Lord,  for  thee. 

— G.  Tersteegen. 

IT  was  quite  dark  before  the  clumsy  diligence 
landed  its  bruised  and  weary  passengers  at 
Don  Eduardo's  gates. 

As  it  was  Saturday  night,  and  the  morrow  was 
to  be  a  day  full  of  work  and  possible  excitement, 
the  travelers  retired  to  their  rooms  at  an  early 
hour.  Miss  Summers  was  too  tired  to  sleep,  and 
gladly  listened  to  Refugio's  chatter,  as  she  lay  on 
the  bed  and  rested.  She  learned  that  Padre  Este- 
ban  had  left  the  ranch  after  a  stay  of  several  days, 
and  that  he  had  held  services  every  day  in  Dona 
Rosa's  sala,  where  an  altar  had  been  improvised 
and  mass  celebrated  with  the  usual  little  boys  as 
assistants.  On  the  previous  Sunday  he  had 
preached  a  sermon,  inciting  all  the  Catholics  in 
the  ranch  to  greater  faith  and  zeal,  and  the  attend- 
ance had  been  so  large  that  the  congregation  had 
overflowed  into  the  hall  and  court,  while  the  win- 
292 


HOME  AGAIN.  293 

dows  and  doors  were  blocked  with  people  outside. 
He  had  especially  warned  his  hearers  against  the 
messenger  of  Satan,  in  the  form  of  the  fair- 
skinned  young  woman,  who  was  leading  some  of 
the  sheep  astray  from  the  fold,  and  he  had  tried  to 
exact  promises  from  them  that  they  would  not 
attend  the  evangelical  services.  Many  hands  had 
been  raised,  Refugio  said,  but  quite  as  many 
remained  unresponsive  to  the  priest's  suggested 
test  of  fidelity  to  the  mother  church.  And  Sefior 
Jiminez  had  preached  such  a  good  sermon  that 
night  in  the  little  Baptist  chapel,  not  against  the 
Catholics  at  all,  nor  alluding  to  Padre  Esteban. 
It  was  all  about  the  great  love  of  Christ  to  men, 
and  the  love  of  Christians  for  each  other,  as  the 
real  test  of  fidelity  to  him.  Don  Eduardo  with 
all  his  family,  Jose  included,  had  been  present, 
and  some  one  else,  the  senorita  could  not  guess 
who ! 

"Captain  Daniel?"  Mary  ventured. 

"  No,  he  is  all  and  all  with  the  padre,"  Refugio 
replied  ;  "  and  they  were  rarely  apart  while  the 
priest  stayed  at  Daniel's  house  ;  you  will  never 
guess,  so  I  will  tell  you — Dona  Martina  !  " 

"Oh,  Refugio!"  Mary  exclaimed,  after  a 
moment  of  silent  gratitude.  ' '  Did  she  come 
alone,  poor  thing?  " 

"  Yes,  she  walked  in  a  little  late,  with  a  black 
shawl  thrown  over  her  head,  and  almost  hiding 
her  face.  She  sat  down  by  Petra,  and  after  the 


294  A    MEXICAN   RANCH. 

meeting  she  came  home  with  us,  and  it  was  she 
who  told  us  about  Padre  Esteban's  sermon  in  the 
morning.  She  was  indignant  at  what  he  said 
about  you.  And,  senorita,  she  talked  about 
Juanito,  and  said  that  she  almost  went  crazy  while 
her  boy  was  ill  and  begging  for  you,  and  that  if 
it  had  not  been  for  her  husband  and  Dona  Juana, 
she  would  have  sent  for  you  at  first.  She  told 
Jose,  when  he  walked  home  with  her  that  night, 
that  she  intended  to  attend  our  church  always 
now,  for  Don  Juan,  her  husband,  has  not  been 
drunk  since  Juanito  died,  and  he  says  she  may 
come." 

"  I  am  very  thankful  for  that,  Cuca,  and  about 
Jose*  also.  I  could  hardly  believe  that  he  had 
announced  publicly  that  he  was  a  Christian, 
although  I  have  known  for  a  long  while  that  he 
was  more  than  half  convinced." 

"  Did  you  know  that  he  played  the  organ  for  us 
Sunday  night  ?  He  practised  hymns  almost  all 
day  Saturday  with  the  doors  shut,  and  Sunday 
morning,  when  Sefior  Jiminez  read  out  the  first 
one  on  the  list  that  Jose"  had  given  him,  Jose"  got 
up  from  his  seat  very  quietly  and  sat  down  at  the 
organ  and  played  so  beautifully.  Senorita,  I  wish 
you  could  have  seen  his  face,  it  was  so  calm  and 
beautiful  !  "  Refugio's  eyes  were  moist  and  the 
hand  lying  on  Mary's  pillow  trembled  visibly. 

A  hasty  thought  darted  through  Mary's  mind, 
to  be  as  hastily  rejected  :  could  this  child,  who  was 


HOME  AGAIN.  295 

really  a  woman  now,  love  Jose",  who  was  kind  and 
tender  to  all  women?  Why  might  it  not  be? 
And  what  happiness  it  would  be  for  Mary  herself 
to  feel  that  Refugio  would  be  so  safe  and — but 
poor  disfigured  Angela  !  No,  she  would  lay  no 
plans  of  this  kind.  This  was  not  a  part  of  her 
work. 

Refugio  was  talking  of  Jose's  confession  before 
his  friends  and  servants  at  the  evening  service 
when  Miss  Summers  found  herself  listening  to  her 
again  ;  and  she  heard  how  brave  and  manly  he 
had  looked  then  as  he  told  them  all  in  a  few 
words  of  his  wish  to  be  a  Christian  and  to  be  bap- 
tized as  Christ  had  been. 

"And  senorita,"  Refugio  concluded,  "I  also 
wish  to  be  baptized  to-morrow  night  when  Dona 
Raquel  and  Petra  and  Jose*  and  the  others  are." 

Her  teacher  had  hoped  for  this  news,  but  she  had 
been  unwilling  to  hurry  Refugio  to  this  point. 
Now,  after  talking  with  her  awhile  on  the  subject, 
and  being  satisfied  that  she  loved  the  Saviour  and 
realized  the  significance  of  the  ordinance,  she 
promised  to  speak  with  Mr.  Richards  in  the  morn- 
ing. 

I^ong  after  Mary  fell  asleep,  out  in  the  court  the 
windlass  and  chain  of  the  well  groaned  and  creaked 
as  Jose"  and  another  man  drew  water  by  the  bucket- 
ful for  filling  the  baptistery  close  at  hand.  Years 
before,  this  baptistery  had  been  built  in  Eduardo's 
courtyard  between  the  well  and  the  flower-plot. 


296  A    MEXICAN   RANCH. 

It  consisted  of  a  space  seven  feet  by  five,  on  a  level 
with  the  paving  of  the  court  and  surrounded  by 
a  well-built,  cemented  wall  four  or  five  feet  high. 
When  filled  with  water  this  furnished  an  excellent 
baptistery,  and  when  not  in  use  it  was  covered 
with  a  close  lid  of  boards  after  the  water  had  been 
drawn  off. 

There  was  no  moon,  but  the  stars  beamed 
brightly  down  upon  what  seemed  a  peaceful, 
sleeping  village.  Here  and  there,  however,  there 
were  wakeful,  anxious  hearts. 

By  midnight  Miss  Summers  and  her  companion, 
who  now  occupied  a  cot  in  the  ante-room,  were 
resting  quietly,  all  hope  or  dread  banished  from 
the  young  missionary's  dreamless  sleep  of  ex- 
haustion. 

In  a  room  not  far  away  the  two  American 
gentlemen  were  discussing  the  situation  from  the 
new  point  of  view  offered  them  by  Jose"'s  account 
of  the  events  of  the  past  few  days. 

"  Do  you  apprehend  any  trouble  from  this  priest 
and  his  colleague  the  school-master  ?  "  the  younger 
man  asked. 

"Yes,  I  do,"  Mr.  Richards  replied.  "And  so 
does  Jose",  though  we  were  careful  not  to  let  the 
women  imagine  such  a  thing.  I  know  both  of  the 
men  well.  Esteban  is  a  coward  himself,  but  he 
knows  how  to  work  on  the  other  people,  and  Jose* 
has  good  reason  to  believe  that  he  has  stirred  up 
some  of  the  more  fanatical  to  be  on  the  watch 


HOME  AGAIN.  297 

against  Miss  Summers'  return  and  any  especial 
services  that  may  be  observed  at  the  union  of  these 
prominent  characters  with  our  church.  He  had 
no  reason,  I  suppose,  to  apprehend  my  coming, 
but  Jose*  thinks  that  he  is  skulking  in  one  of  the 
neighboring  villages  not  far  away.  Don  Gregorio 
is  a  desperate  character  where  his  religion,  as  he 
calls  it,  is  concerned,  and  though  he  has  made  a 
pretence  of  keeping  school  these  last  few  days,  he 
has  been  seen  all  about  the  ranch  at  odd  times 
and  in  a  way  foreign  to  his  usual  mode  of  life.  I 
cannot  say  what  it  is  I  apprehend,  but  it  will  be 
as  well  for  us  all  to  be  upon  our  guard  during  the 
entire  day  to-niorrow,  as  we  number  but  fifty  odd, 
while  the  other  party  is  numerically  much 
stronger. ' ' 

"  I  longed  to  understand  you  all  to-night^  when 
talking  of  these  things  in  the  parlor.  One  feels 
like  a  deaf  mute  as  far  as  understanding  goes, 
when  hearing  an  unknown  language." 

" Paciencia,  amigo  mio/"1  returned  the  older 
man,  smiling,  as  he  looked  at  his  watch.  ''  You 
will  soon  be  jabbering  like  the  rest  of  us,  thinking 
you  know  a  great  deal  of  Spanish,  and  only  kept 
from  realizing  how  ridiculous  you  make  yourself 
by  the  politeness  of  these  Mexicans.  And  now 
let  us  go  to  bed  ;  it  is  after  midnight." 

Don  Gregorio,  about  the  same  time,  was  sitting 
in  his  one-roomed  cottage,  poring  over  a  slip  of 

1  Patience,  my  friend ! 


298  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

paper  which  he  had  just  found  lying  beside  the 
candlestick  when  he  returned  from  a  round  among 
the  homes  of  several  of  his  friends  in  the  ranch. 
The  paper  read  : 

4 '  Do  nothing  until  I  see  you.  R.  and  another  are 
on  the  ground,  and  it  will  not  be  safe.  Wait" 

"Too  late!"  he  muttered.  "And  even  if  it 
were  not,  it  must  be  done.  I  myself  will  be  the 
avenger,  and  the  little  proselyter  will  soon  learn  to 
sing  a  new  tune ! "  He  had  insensibly  raised 
his  voice  with  the  last  words,  and  a  muffled 
"Ha!  ha!"  chuckled  beneath  his  window  out- 
side startled  him  out  of  his  mad  thoughts. 

It  was  only  Juana,  who  chuckled  louder  as  the 
man  threw  open  his  door  and  looked  out. 
.  "Yes,  yes,"  she  cried,  catching  him  by  the 
hand  and  shaking  it  in  an  ecstacy  ;  "  the  storm 
is  coming,  Mariquita,  and  the  holy  mother  will 
not  save  you  this  time,  nor  will  the  little  captain, 
either ! " 

Gregorio  shook  her  off  as  if  she  had  been  a  viper 
and  slammed  the  door  in  her  face,  while  he  tot- 
tered, trembling,  to  his  bed. 

Jose"  worked  on  quietly  under  the  stars,  until 
the  last  bucketful  had  been  emptied  into  the 
basin  and  th^  other  man  had  departed. 

The  night  breeze  drove  little  ripples  across  the 
surface  of  the  water,  and  he  leaned  his  arms  upon 
the  edge  of  the  pool  and  gazed  sadly  down  into  its 
cold  depths. 


HOME   AGAIN.  399 

"  She  will  love  him,"  he  thought,  "for  he  also 
is  fair  and  handsome.  He  loves  her  already,  I 
think,  for  he  could  not  take  his  eyes  from  her  face 
to-night  when  she  talked.  Misericordia  de  Dios  / l 
Why  must  it  be?  " 

Then  he  turned  his  white  face  up  to  the  spark- 
ling sky,  and  a  quiet  resignation  settled  over  his 
spirit. 

'"Thy  will  be  done,'"  he  murmured,  softly; 
"  and  help  me  to  know  what  it  is,  so  that  I  may  do 
it  always,  all  the  days  of  my  life  !  " 

The  lyord's  Day  dawned  cold  and  clear.  Cap- 
tain Daniel,  who  had  deferred  his  departure  from 
San  Bernabe  for  reasons  best  known  to  himself, 
sat  moodily  outside  his  father's  door,  as  the  little 
cracked  bell  rang  for  morning  service.  He  was  in 
full  view  of  his  grandfather's  gates,  and  had  seen 
the  whole  household  start  a  few  moments  before 
for  the  chapel.  He  did  not  see,  however,  that  the 
four  men  of  the  party  wore  pistols  under  their 
coats,  although  their  faces  were  cheerful  and 
serene.  From  here  and  there  appeared  other  per- 
sons, quietly  making  their  way  toward  the  same 
point,  and  before  many  moments  had  passed  the 
hated  music  of  some  hymn  was  ringing  out  upon 
the  sweet  freshness  of  the  day.  "  The  chapel  must 
be  slowly  filling,"  thought  the  captain,  for  soon 
there  were  many  persons  gathered  outside,  and  the 
doorway  seemed  choked  with  eager  listeners. 

1  Mercy  of  God. 


3OO  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

When  the  clear  tones  of  Mr.  Richards'  voice,  ad- 
dressing the  people,  met  his  ear,  he  could  bear  no 
more,  and  with  an  angry  kick  at  his  sword,  he 
inarched  off  in  an  opposite  direction,  toward  the 
unfinished  walls  of  Dona  Raquel's  chapel. 

Under  the  little  tree  in  the  open  space  before  the 
barn,  which  served  for  the  threshing  floor  in  the 
autumn,  there  was  a  knot  of  women  standing, 
who  looked  up  as  Daniel  clattered  by.  He  re- 
sponded to  their  greetings  in  a  surly  manner,  and 
after  he  had  passed  some  shrugged  their  shoulders, 
and  one  said  : 

"  He  is  no  good;  for  all  his  soldier  uniform  and 
his  straight  back,  he  is  a  coward.  Strange,  when 
his  mother  is  so  firm  and  hates  those  singing  devils 
down  there  like  poison  !  " 

"Ah,  but  Danielito  is  more  than  half  in  love 
with  the  pretty  little  gold-hair,  and  that  may 
explain  a  good  deal,"  old  Juana  croaked,  shaking 
her  fists  toward  the  mission  house  and  spitting 
vindictively  upon  the  ground  at  her  feet. 

Daniel  walked  on,  all  unconscious  of  these  re- 
marks, and  when  he  reached  the  tower,  only  too 
well  remembered  by  himself,  he  found  that  the 
building  was  occupied,  for  voices  reached  him 
from  around  the  corner  of  the  wall.  He  followed 
the  sounds,  and  reaching  the  side  looking  out 
upon  the  prairie  and  invisible  from  the  ranch,  he 
came  upon  another  little  group.  Here  there  were 
no  women.  Don  Gregorio  was  sitting  in  an  angle 


HOME  AGAIN.  30! 

of  the  wall,  holding  a  scrap  of  paper  in  his  hand, 
while  the  remaining  five  or  six  men  seemed 
divided  upon  some  question. 

As  Daniel  approached,  all  turned  to  him  except 
Gregorio,  who  kept  up  an  indistinct  muttering  to 
himself.  One,  who  seemed  a  kind  of  leader  of 
the  others  and  of  rather  a  more  pleasing  appear- 
ance than  the  rest,  explained  to  Daniel  the  purport 
of  the  message  received  by  Gregorio  the  preceding 
night,  and  signified  his  own  intention  of  abiding 
by  the  directions  given  in  the  note.  The  other 
men  were  not  so  temperate,  and  urged  Daniel  to 
declare  that  it  was  now  too  late  to  go  back  upon 
plans  already  made.  Daniel  was  silent.  The 
sight  of  the  young  missionary  in  all  her  freshness 
and  sweetness,  as  she  had  nodded  to  him  on  her 
way  to  church  less  than  an  hour  ago,  had  already 
undone  much  of  the  Padre  Esteban's  training 
during  the  past  week,  and  he  was  fast  coming  to 
the  resolution  of  running  away  that  day  and  taking 
no  part  in  the  indignity  to  be  put  upon  the  little 
church  that  night.  He  knew  that  Esteban's  plan 
had  been  only  to  scatter  the  worshipers  after  they 
should  have  gathered  for  evening  service,  by  means 
of  a  few  shots  into  the  air  and  a  wild  shouting  and 
threatening  from  a  mob  outside,  who  could  easily 
overcome  any  resistance  ;  and  afterward,  a  final 
destruction  of  the  mission  house  and  property  by 
fire. 

"No  lives  need  be  lost,"  the  wily  priest  had 


3O3  A  MEXICAN   RANCH. 

suggested;  "but  the  scare  will  be  worth  much, 
and  the  senorita  will  be  afraid  to  venture  back 
again  soon." 

When  Don  Gregorio  had  declared  this  project 
weak,  and  that  it  would  be  productive  of  no  per- 
manent change  in  the  real  state  of  affairs,  he  had 
been  overruled  by  the  more  influential  younger 
man,  and  the  plan  was  adopted.  Now  that,  Mr. 
Richards  had  arrived,  the  priest  was  afraid  that 
such  an  attack  could  not  be  carried  through,  and 
he  was  not  yet  ready  for  personal  injury  to  come 
to  Miss  Summers.  So  he  had  sent  the  counter- 
orders  to  Don  Gregorio,  who  had  just  communi- 
cated them  to  the  men. 

All  this  passed  through  Daniel's  brain  as  he 
pretended  to  be  pondering  deeply  over  the  scrap 
of  paper  which  one  of  the  men  had  snatched  from 
Gregorio's  trembling  fingers  and  put  into  his  hand. 
Then,  with  a  feigned  sigh,  he  said  : 

"  I  suppose  we  must  abide  by  the  padre's  com- 
mands, friends.  As  he  suggests,  the  enemy  is 
stronger  now  than  a  week  ago,  and  we  would  bet- 
ter defer  any  action  until  the  visitors  leave." 

A  grunt  of  disapproval  broke  from  Gregorio, 
and  the  men  turned  sullenly  away,  except  the  one 
who  had  first  spoken  to  Daniel. 

"Come,  Diego,"  said  Daniel,  as  he  looked  at 
his  grave  companion.  "  I^et  us  ride  over  to  La 
Bienvenida  to  mass  there,  and  if  there  is  nothing 
to  prevent,  we  will  make  a  day  of  it." 


HOME   AGAIN.  303 

The  other  agreed,  and  before  the  services  were 
over  in  the  mission  chapel,  the  two  compan- 
ions were  trotting  toward  La  Bienvenida  in  the 
west,  and  breathing  more  freely,  as  their  ponies 
shook  from  their  feet  the  dust  of  San  Bernabe. 

The  morning  passed  happily  within  the  walls, 
which  but  twice  more  were  to  shelter  the  faithful 
flock  gathered  there  on  that  twenty-first  day  of 
December.  The  inspiring  words  and  magnetic 
presence  of  the  elder  missionary,  as  he  preached 
the  gospel,  as  only  he  knew  how,  to  the  thirsty 
seekers  after  truth  who  thronged  the  little  room, 
touched  many  hearts  that  day.  After  what  she 
had  heard,  Miss  Summers  was  not  surprised  to 
see  the  tall,  thin  figure  of  Martina  arise  when  an 
opportunity  was  given  at  the  close  of  the  service 
for  those  who  wished  to  confess  their  faith  in 
Christ  and  desired  to  follow  his  commands. 

When  she  looked  into  the  faces  of  Raquel  and 
of  Petra,  of  Refugio  and  Jose",  and  of  two  or  three 
others  who  had  for  some  time  been  waiting  for 
such  an  opportunity,  as  they  stood  in  their  places, 
she  wondered  if  she  could  ever  be  faithless  or  dis- 
couraged again.  The  tears  rolled  unchecked  down 
her  cheeks,  as  she  sat  in  her  place  before  the  little 
organ  at  the  preacher's  right  hand. 

There  were  no  vacant  places  in  front,  nor  in  the 
aisle  between  the  rows  of  benches,  and  the  candi- 
dates were  compelled  to  rise  and  stand  by  their 
seats  during  the  long  searching  examination  made 


304  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

of  each  in  turn  by  Mr.  Richards.  As  one  after 
another  gave  satisfactory  answers,  a  verse  of  some 
hymn  was  sting  softly  and  tenderly,  and  once  or 
twice  Mary  was  almost  overcome,  as  Jose's  full, 
rich  voice  was  heard  above  the  rest. 

"  What  a  brave  fellow  he  is,"  she  thought,  as 
she  watched  his  bright,  unconscious  face.  "  Re- 
fugio  was  right.  There  is  a  beauty  in  his  face 
that  I  never  saw  before.  He  has  forgotten  his 
sadness  in  his  great  joy.  Thank  God  !  " 

Roger  Douglas  stood  beside  Mr.  Richards  dur- 
ing the  examinations,  and  from  time  to  time  put 
questions  to  the  candidates,  which  were  translated 
into  Spanish  by  Mr.  Richards.  This  seemed  to 
bring  the  whole  band  into  greater  harmony,  and 
to  make  them  forget  the  strange  face  and  voice  in 
the  one  absorbing  theme  which  united  them. 

When  all  the  professions  had  been  heard,  and 
the  candidates  had  been  accepted,  except  one  or 
two  who  were  advised  to  wait  longer  for  a  little 
further  instruction,  the  benediction  was  pro- 
nounced, and  the  congregation  dispersed  quietly 
to  their  homes. 

The  afternoon  passed  as  usual  with  Sunday- 
school  at  an  early  hour,  and  then  the  three  mis- 
sionaries walked  home  together,  weary  indeed, 
but  very  happy  in  the  undisturbed  peace  of  the 
day.  The  congregation  had  been  invited  to  an 
early  evening  service,  and  to  the  ordinance  of  bap- 
tism afterward  in  Don  Ivduardo's  court. 


HOME   AGAIN. 

"  We  shall  have  our  men  about  in  the  crowd 
that  will  surely  attend  the  baptism,"  Mr.  Rich- 
ards was  saying,  as  they  neared  the  court-yard 
gates  ;  "  and  they  will  notice  any  signs  of  disturb- 
ance and  promptly  quell  it.  After  such  a  happy 
day,  however,"  he  continued,  lifting  his  hat  from 
his  head,  and  looking  upward  as  if  in  gratitude  to 
the  Ruler  of  all  things,  "  I  hardly  think  we  need 
fear  anything  more  than  a  stone  or  two  thrown. 
I  have  rarely  escaped  something  of  the  kind  here, 
on  such  occasions." 

Mary  shivered  as  she  heard  these  words,  for  she 
was  only  a  woman,  and  the  thought  of  possible 
injury  to  those  whom  she  had  come  to  love  with 
all  her  heart,  was  terrifying  to  her.  And  over  her 
joy,  like  a  cloud  passing  over  the  sun  at  midday, 
just  then  there  flashed  the  recollection  of  old 
Juana's  crazy  prophecy  twice  repeated  to  her. 
She  shivered  again,  and  Roger  Douglas  saw  her 
face  grow  pale. 

"  Come,  Miss  Summers,"  he  said,  briskly,  "you 
are  chilly  and  I  am  cold  ;  it  is  early  yet,  let  us  go 
for  a  walk  on  the  plains,  in  the  sunshine.  I  dread 
going  into  these  shivery  Mexican  houses,  which 
always  have  the  air  of  a  tomb." 

She  gladly  accepted,  and  as  Mr.  Richards  went 
toward  the  house,  she  called  Refugio  to  accom- 
pany them,  and  they  went  out  upon  the  sunny 
plain. 

"  I  think  I  shall  have  at  least  one  of  the  rooms 
u 


306  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

of  my  house  roofed  with  glass,"  said  Douglas, 
laughing,  when  they  had  left  the  ranch  behind 
them.  "Then  there  will  be  one  room  always 
warm,  as  long  as  the  sun  is  shining." 

"  And  you  could  use  it  for  an  oven  in  the  sum- 
mer," returned  his  companion,  brightly,  tighten- 
ing her  hold  upon  Refugio's  hand,  so  that  the  girl 
might  not  feel  entirely  neglected  during  the  Eng- 
lish talk. 

Then  they  fell  to  more  serious  talk,  and  each 
learned  something  of  the  other's  former  life  and 
of  the  ardent  aspirations  for  the  work  before  them. 

"  One  becomes  so  absorbed  in  the  life  of  these 
people  when  thrown  with  them  as  I  have  been," 
Miss  Summers  confessed,  "  that  one's  former  life 
grows  vague  and  unreal, — not  that  I  forget  my 
dear  ones  at  home,"  she  added  hastily,  "or  ever 
could  do  so.  If  they  needed  me,  however,  or  if 
by  my  absence  they  were  deprived  of  anything 
more  than  my  society,  I  could  not  so  heartily 
identify  myself  with  these  new  relations  and  sur- 
roundings. Mr.  Douglas,  do  you  not  think  that 
God  sometimes  lets  the  path  of  duty  lie  very  clear 
before  us  ?  I  have  never  had  a  doubt  but  that  he 
meant  for  me  to  come  here,  although  in  times  of 
discouragement,  I  have  felt  sure  that  something 
was  lacking  in  me,  and  in  my  way  of  getting  at 
the  people. ' ' 

"  And  I  am  sure  you  feel  with  me,  Miss  Sum- 
mers," Douglas  replied,  "  that  a  missionary  ought 


HOME  AGAIN. 

to  wait  for  just  such  an  utter  conviction  as  to  his 
duty  as  you  experienced,  before  he  undertakes 
such  a  serious  matter  as  devoting  his  life  to 
mission  work.  It  ought  to  be  one's  life-work,  do 
you  not  think  so  ?  " 

"  As  far  as  it  is  possible  for  him  as  a  Christain 
to  make  it  so,  yes,"  she  assented. 

They  were  silent  after  that,  as  they  watched  the 
gorgeous  setting  of  the  sun  behind  the  burning 
masses  of  crimson  and  purple  clouds  in  the  dis- 
tance. The  air  again  grew  cold  and  crisp,  as  in 
the  early  morning,  and  as  they  still  walked  away 
from  the  ranch  the  sunset  glow  irradiated  their 
faces,  and  the  solemn  beauty  of  the  scene  touched 
their  hearts. 

"  How  beautiful  it  is,  senorita  !  "  Refugio  whis- 
pered, when  they  finally  paused  to  take  a  farewell 
look  at  the  changing  colors  of  the  clouds,  before 
turning  homeward.  "And  there  is  the  new  moon 
opposite  !  See  how  bright  and  silvery  it  looks  in 
the  blue  sky  !  " 

"  Our  baby  Mary  at  home  calls  it  '  God's  little 
silver  lamp,  hanging  in  the  sky,'  "  said  Mary, 
smiling  to  Mr.  Douglas. 

Then  the  faint  notes  of  a  bell  came  across  the 
plain  to  them,  and  they  hastened  homeward,  real- 
izing that  this  was  the  first  bell  ringing  for  even- 
ing service. 

Douglas'  object  had  been  accomplished,  for, 
when  they  arrived  at  home  warm  and  breathless 


308  A   MEXICAN  RANCH. 

only  just  in  time  to  eat  a  mouthful  of  supper 
before  going  to  church,  he  saw  that  Mary  had  laid 
aside  her  fears,  and  that  her  cheeks  were  glowing 
with  renewed  strength. 

Jose",  standing  in  the  doorway  of  the  sala,  had 
seen  them  go  off  together,  and  was  surprised  to 
find  that  he  could  smile  at  the  sight.  His  renun- 
ciation of  himself  to  the  will  of  God  had  been 
hearty  and  complete,  and  although  the  smile  was  a 
little  sad,  he  was  beginning  to  feel  that  there  was 
still  much  left  to  him,  so  long  as  he  should  be 
faithful  to  that  Will  which  he  had  adopted  as  his 
guide  through  life. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 
OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY  FULFILLED. 

We  are  buried  with  him  by  baptism  into  death :  that  like  as 
Christ  was  raised  up  from  the  dead  by  the  glory  of  the  Father,  even 
so  we  also  should  walk  in  newness  of  life. — Romans  6  :  4. 

If  we  believe  that  Jesus  died  and  rose  again,  even  so  them  also 
which  sleep  in  Jesus  will  God  bring  with  him. — /  Thess.  4  :  14. 

''PHE  western  horizon  still  glowed  red  as  a  large 
J-      congregation  assembled  in  the  chapel,  and 
the  silver  crescent  moon  still  held  her  own  in  the- 
darkening  sky. 

Mary  Summers  never  again  caught  such  a 
glimpse  of  the  heavens  without  a  sharp  thrill, 
first  of  gladness  at  the  recollection  of  that  after- 
noon walk  on  the  prairie,  and  then  one  of  horror, 
at  the  memory  of  what  had  followed,  later  on  in 
the  night. 

The  sermon  was  short  and  simple,  treating  of 
Christian  baptism  as  believed  in  and  practised 
by  Baptists,  and  all  of  the  arguments  produced 
were  derived  from  the  New  Testament  itself, 
which  Mr.  Richards  held  open  in  his  hand,  dur- 
ing the  service.  In  closing  he  made  a  tender  and 
striking  allusion  to  death  and  the  resurrection,  so 
beautifully  set  forth  in  the  sacred  rite. 

After  the  service  was   concluded,   he  invited 

3°9 


310  A    MEXICAN   RANCH. 

those  of  the  congregation  who  wished  to  be  pres- 
ent at  the  baptism  to  proceed  directly  to  the  Vera 
courtyard,  and,  at  the  same  time,  he  begged  that 
perfect  order  and  decorum  should  be  observed 
during  the  administration  of  the  ordinance. 

Those  who  were  somewhat  anxiously  watching 
the  signs  of  the  temper  of  the  crowd  noticed  that 
a  half-restrained  eagerness  seemed  leading  most 
of  the  outsiders  toward  the  Vera  gates,  but  that 
when  the  entrance  was  reached  very  few  actually 
entered  besides  the  members  of  the  church  and 
the  candidates  for  baptism.  The  others  slipped 
away  to  their  homes  or  lounged  about  the  walls 
outside,  and  this  looked  ominous  to  Mr.  Richards, 
who  was  one  of  the  last  to  enter.  He  whispered 
a  word  to  Jose",  who  immediately  called  two  men 
and  stationed  them  inside  of  the  entrance ;  these 
were  to  close  and  bar  the  gates  at  the  least  demon- 
stration of  hostility  from  without. 

The  sight  within  was  a  striking  one,  as  some 
sixty  persons  gathered  about  the  baptistery  in  the 
center  of  the  court.  Several  had  torches,  which 
flared  redly  over  the  dark,  earnest  faces  watching 
the  minister  as  he  ascended  the  steps  outside  of 
the  baptistery  and  then  descended  into  the  water. 
Miss  Summers'  clear  voice  began  the  baptismal 
hymn : 

"  Liquid  grave,  emblem  of  the  Lord's," 

and  the  solemn  tune  of  Zion,  taken  up  by  most 
of  the  voices,  rose  into  the  night  and  sounded  far 


OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY  FULFILLED.     311 

out  over  the  prairie,  where  two  horsemen  stood 
silent  as  statues  in  the  darkness. 

Fathers  lifted  little  wide-eyed  children  to  their 
shoulders  that  they  might  see  the  strange,  wonder- 
ful sight  and  mothers  held  their  sleeping  babies 
to  their  bosoms  with  a  closer  clasp  as  one  after 
another  of  the  candidates  was  led  into  the  "  liquid 
grave."  There  was  something  very  solemn  in  the 
reiterated  :  "  In  obedience  to  the  command  of  our 
divine  Lord  and  Master,  I  baptize  thee,"  as  first 
Refugio,  then  Raquel  and  the  others  following, 
obeyed  their  Master's  command.  As  Jose",  after 
all  the  others  mounted  the  steps,  paused  for  a 
moment  before  stepping  into  the  water,  Miss  Sum- 
mers, with  Mr.  Douglas  at  her  side,  saw  that  he 
took  a  pistol  from  his  belt  and  laid  it  on  the  edge 
of  the  pool.  Just  then  a  heavy  column  of  dense 
smoke  rose  from  near  by  in  the  ranch,  and  an 
odor  of  burning  caused  anxious  looks  to  be  cast 
from  one  to  the  other  on  the  part  of  the  spectators. 
As  the  service  was  so  near  the  end,  however,  no 
one  moved  from  his  place. 

Mary's  voice,  trembling  a  little  now,  began  the 
closing  lines  of  another  verse  of  the  hymn,  just  as 
Jose  emerged  from  the  water  : 

Y  es  mi  gloria, 
Sepultarme  con  Jesus.1 

Mr.  Richards'  voice  was  raised  in  the  benedic- 

1  And  it  is  my  glory, 
To  be  buried  with  Jesus. 


312  A    MEXICAN   RANCH. 

tion,  when  a  lurid  light  burst  from  the  cloud  of 
smoke,  and  for  a  few  moments  it  seemed  as  if  Don 
Eduardo's  house  itself  must  be  ablaze,  so  near  the 
fire  seemed. 

At  the  same  moment,  from  behind  the  high 
wall,  there  rained  down  upon  the  people  assembled 
in  the  court,  such  a  shower  of  stones,  that  for  a 
moment  every  one  seemed  paralyzed  with  conster- 
nation. Then  shrieks  resounded  through  the 
court,  and  the  screams  of  frightened  children 
were  mingled  with  the  deeper  tones  of  the  men, 
who  hurried  the  women  into  the  house  as  soon  as 
possible.  Still  the  stones  were  hurled  in  upon 
them  with  great  force  as  thick  as  hail,  while  here 
and  there  a  larger  rock  crashed  down  upon  the 
pavement.  To  make  the  confusion  greater,  the 
torches  were  thrown  down  by  the  bearers  and 
extinguished,  and  the  light  from  the  burning  mis- 
sion house  outside,  died  out  as  the  roof  fell  in  with 
its  thick  layer  of  earth  upon  it,  and  the  darkness 
was  complete.  Fortunately  the  doors  of  the 
house  were  all  open,  lights  were  struck,  and 
before  many  moments  the  weaker  ones  were 
huddled  inside,  while  the  stones  still  fell  with- 
out The  men  had  rushed  to  the  gates  as  soon  as 
the  women  and  children  were  safe,  and  they  found 
that  those  who  had  been  put  there  to  guard  the 
entrance  had  done  their  part  well.  The  gates 
were  heavily  barred  within,  and  there  seemed  no 
attempt  to  force  them  open.  The  stones  kept  the 


OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY  FULFILLED.     313 

men  dodging  continually,  as  there  was  no  cessation 
in  the  rocky  fire. 

"We  may  as  well  go  inside,"  Mr.  Richards 
said,  after  an  instant  or  two  of  examination  of  the 
gates.  "  The  cowards  will  only  fight  from  behind 
the  walls,  and  here  we  run  the  risk  of  having  our 
heads  broken.  Let  us  go,  Douglas,  to  Miss  Sum- 
mers ;  perhaps  there  are  some  hurt  in  there." 

"  The  mission  chapel  is  gone,  sir,"  remarked 
Jose",  who  was  sheltering  himself  in  the  deep  gate- 
way. 

"Perhaps  they  will  fire  this  house  also,"  sug- 
gested Douglas,  "and  drive  us  out." 

"They  could  not  fire  it  from  outside,"  Jose  re- 
plied, understanding  the  remark.  "  They  must 
have  broken  into  the  schoolhouse  and  filled  it 
with  straw." 

"  Where  do  these  stones  come  from  ?  "  Douglas 
gasped,  as  they  rushed  across  the  court  again  to- 
ward the  first  open  door.  ' '  They  seem  to  have 
no  end  to  them." 

"  The  prairie  is  strewn  with  them.  They  ar- 
ranged the  attack  while  we  were  in  church,  I  sup- 
pose." 

They  entered  the  house  and  found  themselves 
in  Miss  Summers'  room,  which  was  crowded  with 
frightened  women  and  sobbing  children. 

' '  Come,  Mr.  Richards,  to  poor  L,uisa  and  look 
at  her  baby,"  Mary  begged  when  she  saw  them. 
"  I  have  done  all  that  I  could,  but  I  am  afraid  it 


314  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

is  dying.  See  its  poor  head  !  One  of  the  first 
stones  struck  it  and  it  has  not  moved  since." 

Then  she  whispered  to  Mr.  Douglas,  who  was 
dismayed  at  the  piteous  sight  of  Luisa's  grief  : 

"  There  are  others  too,  cut  and  bruised.  I  am 
very  faint  and  must  have  a  little  air.  Help  them, 
please,  while  I  stand  a  moment  at  the  door.  It 
will  pass  soon,"  she  added,  as  he  exclaimed  at  the 
pallor  of  her  face.  "We  are  so  crowded  in  here, 
that  is  all.  They  have  stopped  throwing  stones 
now,  and  I  hear  nothing  at  all." 

Mr.  Douglas  joined  Mr.  Richards,  and  Miss 
Summers  stood  alone  just  outside  of  the  door. 
The  ground  was  covered  with  the  missiles,  and  no 
one  was  in  sight  in  the  court  except  a  few  men 
gathered  silently  about  the  gates. 

Presently  she  was  sure  she  heard  a  groan  from 
a  dark  corner  at  the  other  end  of  the  house,  and 
she  darted  across  the  court  without  calling  any  one 
in  her  haste.  Fallen  in  a  heap  she  found  old 
Eduardo  Vera,  lying  just  as  a  large  stone  had 
struck  him  to  the  ground.  In  the  crowded  rooms 
he  had  evidently  not  been  missed.  She  was  just 
bending  to  lift  his  head  when  a  strong  hand  seized 
her  by  the  shoulder,  and  looking  up  in  terror,  she 
saw  the  face  of  Gregorio,  distorted  with  madness, 
within  six  inches  of  her  own.  He  carried  a  long, 
keen  knife  in  his  free  hand,  and  Mary's  head 
reeled  as  he  hissed  at  her  a  string  of  foul  names, 
ending  with  : 


OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY  FULFILLED.     315 

"  You  thought  you  had  escaped,  did  you,  you 
little  daughter  of  Satan  ?  Ha  !  the  rocks  made  too 
taine  work  for  me,  and  I  have  been  waiting-  here 

'  o 

all  the  time  for  you  in  the  dark.  Now  I  have  you, 
and  by  the  holy  virgin  and  all  the  saints,  you  have 
done  the  last  of  your  vile  proselyting,  for  there ! 
and  there  !  "  He  struck  wildly  at  her  breast,  but 
found  himself  pinioned  from  behind  by  arms 
stronger  than  his  own,  and  he  lost  his  grip  on  the 
knife,  not,  however,  before  his  own  hand  was 
dripping  with  the  blood  he  had  drawn  from  the 
victim  he  had  struck. 

When  Mary  crossed  the  band  of  light  streaming 
from  her  door,  and  ran  out  into  the  court,  Jose", 
from  his  station  at  the  gate,  had  seen  her  with 
dismay  and  hurried  after  her.  He  feared  a  chance 
rock  thrown,  or  he  scarcely  knew  what,  and'  fear 
urged  him  to  her  side  just  in  time  to  fling  himself 
beneath  Gregorio's  hand,  and  to  receive  both 
blows  from  the  sharp  knife.  Then  all  three 
rolled  to  the  ground,  and  Mary  found  her  voice 
and  screamed  with  terror. 

They  were  surrounded  in  an  instant.  Don 
Gregorio,  foaming  and  gnashing  his  teeth,  was 
held  and  securely  bound  by  a  dozen  men,  while 
Mary  and  Jose*  were  helped  to  the  house.  Then, 
the  lantern  in  somebody's  hand  discovered  the 
motionless  body  of  Eduardo,  lying  a  few  feet  from 
where  the  others  had  fallen.  Great  lamentations 
filled  the  air  as  they  bore  their  unconscious  bur- 


316  A    MEXICAN   RANCH. 

dens  into  the  great  sala}  which  was  nearest  to 
hand.  Mary  quickly  recovered  her  outward  com- 
posure and  set  about  helping  with  the  wounded. 

While  Mr.  Richards  and  Mr.  Douglas  examined 
Jose's  wounds,  Miss  Summers  dispatched  Refugio 
to  the  medicine  closet  for  sponges  and  bandages, 
and  then  she  went  to  the  old  man,  who  lay, 
breathing  heavily,  on  the  mattress  which  had 
been  arranged  for  him  on  the  floor  of  the  sala. 
Raqtiel  and  Petra  knelt  at  his  side  weeping,  while 
Mary  applied  restoratives.  A  sickening  bruise  on 
the  top  of  his  bald  head,  from  which  he  had  lifted 
his  hat  as  the  benediction  was  pronounced,  told  to 
all  that  there  was  no  hope. 

Then  the  men  called  Mary  to  Jose",  and  she 
hastened  over  to  his  mattress  to  dress  his  wounds. 
He  also  was  unconscious  now,  from  loss  of  blood, 
as  the  first  knife  thrust  had  severed  a  small  artery 
in  the  right  arm,  and  the  blood  had  gushed  forth 
in  a  heavy  stream.  His  clinging,  wet  sleeve  had 
partly  stayed  the  flow,  and  Mary  lost  no  time  in 
finding  the  artery,  tying  it  and  putting  the  neces- 
sary stitches  in  the  wound.  Then  she  gently  and 
skillfully  bandaged  the  arm.  The  other  wound 
was  in  the  left  hand,  which  the  knife  blade  had 
pierced  through  the  palm.  Both  men  stood  by 
and  marveled  at  the  deftness  of  the  white  hands 
as  they  bathed  and  dressed  and  bandaged  this  last 
wound  also  ;  but  no  one  spoke. 

"The   antiseptic   gauze   with    which   I    have 


OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY  FULFILLED.     317 

dressed  the  places,"  she  explained,  presently, 
"will  prevent  any  inflammation,  I  hope,  in  heal- 
ing. I  do  not  think  the  wounds  are  dangerous, 
but  they  will  be  very  painful,  particularly  that  in 
the  hand.  I  do  not  understand  why  he  was  not 
killed."  She  shuddered  as  she  spoke. 

As  Jose*  showed  signs  of  reviving,  she  begged 
Mr.  Richards  to  have  him  carried  to  his  own  room, 
as  the  sight  of  his  father  on  the  floor  would  be 
overwhelming  for  the  poor  fellow. 

lyiiisa  still  crouched  in  Mary's  room,  moaning 
over  the  dead  baby  on  her  lap,  and  several  other 
women  sat  around  her,  trying  to  comfort  her. 

"My  Pablito,  my  pretty  boy!"  she  groaned. 
"They  have  killed  you,  my  poor  little  inno- 
cent ! " 

Martina  tried  to  take  the  baby  from  her  arms, 
for  her  heart  ached  for  this  poor  little  mother's 
heart ;  but  L<uisa  held  the  little  form  tightly 
wrapped  in  her  shawl  and  took  no  notice  of  any 
one. 

Mr.  Douglas,  wandering  about  the  house  and 
court  after  helping  to  settle  Jose*  in  his  own  bed, 
came  upon  the  little  knot  of  women  at  Mary's 
door,  and  after  watching  the  stricken  mother's 
grief  for  a  moment,  hurried  in  to  Mr.  Richards, 
who  sat  beside  Jose. 

"  Where  is  the  father  of  that  dead  baby,  Rich- 
ards? He  ought  to  be  there  with  his  wife.  I 
never  saw  such  a  sad  sight  in  my  life.  The  woman 


31 8  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

looks  crazy.  Where  do  you  think  I  could  find  the 
father?" 

"  Do  you  know,  Jose*  ?  "  Mr.  Richards  asked  the 
young  man.  u  L/uisa's  baby,  you  know,  is  dead, 
and  where  is  the  father  ?  " 

Jose  shook  his  head,  and  then  murmured  feebly  : 
"  He  is  gone  off  to  the  city  of  Mexico,  they  say." 

"  You  can  do  nothing  for  her,"  said  Mr.  Rich- 
ards. "  I/eave  her  to  Miss  Summers." 

Meanwhile  the  stertorous  breathing  of  the 
dying  man  in  the  sala  had  ceased,  and  his  breath 
was  growing  faint  when  Mr.  Douglas  again  went 
into  the  room.  Mary  was  kneeling  close  beside 
the  old  man,  who  had  opened  his  eyes,  and  was 
trying  to  say  something,  but  in  vain. 

After  a  few  struggles  for  breath  he  closed  his 
eyes  and  turned  his  poor  gray  head  on  one  side  as 
if  for  sleep.  Watching  his  face  intently,  Miss 
Summers  saw  his  lips  move  again,  and  bending 
close  to  his  mouth,  she  caught  the  halting  words, 
which  were  the  last  he  ever  spoke  : 

"  Es  mi  gloria, 
Sepultarme  con  Jesus  !  " 

They  were  the  last  words  of  the  hymn  that  had 
been  upon  his  lips  as  he  had  bowed  his  head  to  re- 
ceive the  benediction,  and  lo !  the  blessing  had 
come  to  him,  and  to  little  Pablito,  in  the  shape  of 
speedy  and  perhaps  painless  death. 

The  ranch  was  quiet  by  one  o'clock.  Stern- 
looking  armed  men  patrolled  the  street  and  by- 


OLD  JUANA'S  PROPHECY  FULFILLED.     319 

ways,  with  hearts  sick  and  sore  over  the  death  of 
their  aged  head,  and  the  silence  was  unbroken 
during  the  night.  Jose  had  ordered  this  watch  to 
be  kept,  so  that  the  women  might  return  to  their 
homes  in  safety. 

Martina  had  persuaded  Luisa  to  accompany  her 
to  her  home,  and  gradually  the  premises  were 
emptied  of  the  crowd  lingering  about  the  doors. 
The  crazy  school  teacher  was  carried  to  his  own 
house  between  two  strong  men,  who  were  to  guard 
him  until  morning.  He  walked  off  mumbling 
incoherently  to  himself,  and  there  could  be  no 
doubt  that  he  was  deranged.  Miss  Summers 
shuddered  as  she  saw  from  her  window  the  man 
struggling  with  his  keepers  on  the  road  outside, 
and  then  with  a  heavy  sigh  she  turned  away  from 
the  beautiful  starlit  night,  which  a  few  hours  ago 
had  seemed  so  peaceful. 

She  had  sent  Refugio  to  bed,  and  had  put  on  a 
loose  wrapper  for  the  night,  and  was  beginning  to 
brush  out  her  long,  beautiful  hair,  when  some  one 
knocked  at  the  door. 

"It  is  I,  Miss  Mary,"  said  Mr.  Richards,  as  he 
knocked.  "  I  hope  that  you  have  not  retired,  for 
Jose  is  a  little  wild  and  is  calling  for  you.  Could 
you  come  for  a  moment  ?  Yes,  just  as  you  are," 
he  continued,  as  she  opened  the  door  and  hesitated. 
"It  is  only  to  satisfy  him  that  you  are  unhurt. 
He  has  not  seen  you,  you  know,  and  though  I 
have  assured  him  that  you  are  all  right,  he  keeps 


32O  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

rousing  to  ask  for  you.  At  this  rate  lie  will  get 
no  sleep  at  all.  Poor  girl,  you  are  so  tired,  are 
you  not  ?  "  as  Mary  sighed  deeply.  They  were 
in  the  court  now. 

"It  is  not  that,  Mr.  Richards.  But  why  has 
there  been  all  the  horror  of  this  night  when  every- 
thing seemed  so  plain  and  so  happy  ?  " 

"We  are  in  the  Lord's  hands,  my  dear  Miss 
Mary,"  he  replied,  simply,  leading  her  to  Josh's 
bedside. 

"Here  I  am,  Jose","  she  said,  soothingly,  a 
moment  after  as  he  started  up  restlessly  from  the 
pillow.  "  It  is  you  who  are  hurt,  and  not  I ;  you 
saved  my  life,  perhaps,  do  you  know  that,  Jose  ? ' ' 

"  Then  I  am  happy,"  he  answered,  feebly.  "  If 
I  die,  I  shall  die  happy  that  I  saved  your  life, 
senorita."  He  looked  earnestly  at  her  as  she  stood 
beside  him  in  her  dark -blue  gown,  with  her  fair 
hair  loosened  and  half  shading  her  face. 

"  You  will  not  die,  Jose","  Mary  replied,  "  if  you 
lie  quietly  now  and  sleep.  To-morrow  you  will 
feel  almost  well  again,  though  your  arm  and  hand 
may  be  stiff  and  sore  for  some  time.  Good-night, 
now  ;  try  to  sleep."  Jose's  dark  eyes  followed  her 
to  the  door,  then  closed  gently  and  he  slept.  Mr. 
Richards  rested  his  weary  frame  on  the  other  bed 
in  the  room,  while  Roger  Douglas  sat  down  quietly 
beside  the  window,  watching  for  the  morning  to 
break  over  the  purple  hills. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE   BURIAL. 

We  know  that  all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love 
God. — Rom.  8  :  28. 

THE  next  afternoon,  just  before  sunset,  all  that 
was  left  of  Eduardo  Vera  and  the  little  baby, 
after  their  souls  had  returned  to  God,  was  laid  to 
rest  in  the  Campo  Santo.  In  accordance  with  the 
Mexican  law,  which  forbids  any  act  of  worship 
outside  the  walls  of  a  house,  the  bodies  were 
lowered  into  the  graves  without  either  prayer  or 
hymn  accompanying  the  burial.  There  had  been 
a  tender  service  held  in  the  Vera  sala,  however, 
before  the  procession  had  left  for  the  cemetery, 
and  the  solemnity  of  the  utter  silence  during  the 
burial  seemed  to  Mary  Summers  more  touching 
than  any  human  words  could  have  made  it. 

Jose"  had  insisted  on  attending  the  funeral,  and 
he  stood  between  his  step-mother  and  Petra,  with 
each  aim  in  a  sling,  looking  very  white  and  ex- 
hausted, but  perfectly  calm.  Every  one  was  quiet 
and  thoughtful  as  if  the  preacher's  last  words  as 
they  left  the  house  were  still  sounding  in  their 
ears,  with  the  comfort  of  their  meaning  taking 
away  most  of  the  sting  of  death. 

v  321 


333  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

1 '  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life,  he  that  be- 
lieveth  in  ine,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he 
live." 

The  next  few  days  were  devoted  by  Mr.  Richards 
to  doing  what  he  could  toward  settling  affairs  at 
the  ranch.  The  mission  chapel  and  schoolhouse 
was  a  blackened  ruin,  and  everything  which  it 
contained  had  been  destroyed.  The  wind  scat- 
tered all  through  the  ranch  pages  from  the  Bible, 
which  had  been  torn  to  pieces  when  the  mob  first 
broke  into  the  chapel.  Many  of  these  leaves  were 
covertly  snatched  from  the  road  and  hidden  away 
carefully,  to  be  read  by  those  who  had  been  fore- 
most in  the  hatred  of  the  "cursed  doctrine." 
And  who  knows  that  this  seed  sown  by  the  way- 
side was  not  to  bear  fruit  ? 

Don  Gregorio  was  sent  to  S ,  to  be  confined 

in  the  hospital  for  the  insane  there,  as  he  contin- 
ued to  show  every  symptom  of  insanity.  And 
Mary  breathed  more  freely  when  he  was  shut  in 
a  special  coach,  and  driven  off  with  his  two 
keepers. 

There  was  no  means  of  ascertaining  all  of  the 
true  actors  in  the  assault,  and  Mr.  Douglas 
thought  it  strange  that  the  affair  was  not  imme- 
diately put  into  the  hands  of  a  vigorous  police. 

uAre  murder  and  arson  to  go  unnoticed  and 
unpunished  in  this  manner?"  he  exclaimed,  rest- 
lessly, on  the  third  day. 


THE  BTJRIAI,.  333 

"It  does  seem  hard,  Douglas,"  replied  Mr. 
Richards ;  "but  you  can  have  no  idea  how  difficult 
it  is  in  this  country  to  get  an  affair  like  this  taken 
up  with  any  judgment  or  success.  Of  course,  it 
has  been  reported  to  the  authorities  at  I/a  Provi- 
dencia.  But  you  will  see  that  nothing  is  done. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  some  of  the  lower  Vera  kin 
were  mixed  up  in  it,  and  the  elder  heads  of  the 
family  will  take  pains  to  hush  it  up.  Indeed, 
Roger,  we  do  not  know  that  Dona  Rosa  Vera  her- 
self, Eduardo's  daughter-in-law,  was  not  one  of 
the  chief  instigatois  in  the  disturbance,  though 
of  course  she  had  nothing  to  do  with  Gregorio's 
violence.  The  loss  of  life  is  something  to  be  for- 
ever regretted,  as  old  Eduardo's  death  is  a  real 
calamity  to  the  ranch,  but  our  work  here  will  not 
be  hurt  in  the  least.  I  think  it  probable  that 
there  will  be  a  reaction  in  our  favor  after  this,  for 
the  priest  Esteban  will  keep  clear  of  the  place  for 
a  long  while  now." 

The  two  gentlemen  were  sitting  on  a  stone  bench 
which  extended  the  length  of  one  end  of  the  barn, 
at  some  distance  from  the  house,  and  were  waiting 
for  Miss  Summers,  who  was  to  join  them  there, 
after  the  dressing  of  Josh's  wounds. 

The  barn  occupied  one  side  of  the  little  open 
square  in  the  center  of  the  ranch,  and  from  this 
seat  in  the  shade,  they  could  see  the  women  going 
to  and  from  the  well  under  the  little  willow  tree, 
with  their  large  red  water  jars  upon  their  shoul- 


324  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

ders.     A  few  men  lounged  there  as  usual,  and  the 
little  ones  were  at  their  play. 

A  subdued  hush  rested  over  the  ranch,  and  the 
women's  voices  were  toned  to  a  lower  key  than 
usual  as  they  passed  hither  and  thither  about  their 
work. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,  Richards,"  Mr.  Doug- 
las continued.  "  Of  course,  you  know  this 
country  better  than  I  do.  But  is  there  no  justice 
done  when  crime  is  committed?" 

"  Certainly ;  and  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that 
many  of  the  laws  are  not  wise,  and  sometimes 
faithfully  carried  out.  But  we  are  Protestants, 
you  know  ;  and  I  need  say  no  more,  when  you 
hear  that  this  place  comes  under  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  authorities  at  La  Providencia.  Perhaps 
this  afternoon,  or  to-morrow,  or  next  week,  a 
couple  of  mounted  police  will  come  galloping  in 
from  that  town,  and  with  a  great  show  of  defer- 
ence to  Jose"  and  Dona  Raquel,  and  of  zeal  in 
searching  for  the  offenders,  will  clatter  about  the 
ranch  and  ask  impertinent  questions  of  each  one 
of  us  Americans.  Then,  after  mysterious  conver- 
sations together,  they  will  gallop  back  to  La 
Providencia,  carrying  a  prisoner  or  two,  who  will 
just  as  likely  as  not  be  entirely  innocent.  It  is  not 
cowardice,  believe  me,  that  keeps  us  from  appeal- 
ing to  the  authorities  ;  it  is  rather  the  perplexities 
involved  in  making  out  a  case  against  any  one  in 
particular,  and  by  experience  gained  by  long 


THE   BURIAL.  335 

years  of  life  among  this  people,  and  by  fruitless 
effort  at  having  anything  like  justice  done  our 
own  followers.  We  shall  be  ready,  without  doubt, 
to  appear  as  witnesses  if  there  is  a  legal  inquiry 
made  into  the  facts,  yet  Jose  agreed  with  me  that 
anything  beyond  informing  the  mayor  at  L,a 
Providencia  of  the  murder  and  attack,  was  out 
of  the  question.  But  here  comes  Miss  Summers. 
How  white  and  tired  she  looks,  poor  girl !  " 

Jose*  and  Petra  accompanied  her,  and  soon  after 
Raquel  and  little  Benjamin  followed  them  toward 
the  great  barn. 

"Mr.  Richards,"  Miss  Summers  began,  as  she 
sat  down  with  the  two  other  women,  "before  I 
walk  on  with  you  to  El  Porvenir,  to  see  the  Gui- 
terrez  family,  Jose  wishes  to  tell  you  something 
which  he  has  just  heard.  He  did  not  wish  to 
interrupt  you  now,  but  I  told  him  our  walk  could 
wait  for  a  while." 

''Yes,  now  is  the  best  time,  friends,"  replied 
Mr.  Richards,  heartily.  "But  sit  down  niy 
friend,"  he  added  to  Jos£,  "you  look  pale  and 
faint.  How  are  the  wounds  to-day  ?  " 

' '  The  senorita  says  they  are  doing  well,  and  I 
am  in  very  little  pain,  thank  you,"  Jose*  replied, 
taking  his  seat. 

"  Well,  let  us  hear  this  business  which  you  have 
to  talk  over  with  me."  Then  glancing  up  in 
some  surprise,  as  Jose"  was  silent,  he  saw  him  look- 
ing with  a  peculiar  gaze  at  a  figure  standing  in 


326  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

Dona  Rosa's  doorway.  It  was  Captain  Daniel, 
arrested  for  a  moment  in  coming  out  of  the  house 
by  the  sight  of  the  group  at  the  barn  door.  He 
was  turning  back  hastily  into  the  house  when  Jose" 
called  : 

"  Daniel !     Come  out  here  for  a  moment." 

After  an  instant's  hesitation,  the  soldier  obeyed, 
and  came  slowly  toward  them. 

"  I  have  not  had  an  opportunity  of  speaking 
with  you,  Daniel,  since — since  last  Sunday  night, 
and  as  they  tell  me  you  are  leaving  to-day,  I  must 
not  lose  this  one.  I  shall  not  detain  you,"  he 
continued,  sternly,  as  Daniel  pretended  to  look 
around  for  a  seat,  "  as  I  only  wish  to  ask  you  one 
or  two  questions.  Where  were  you  during  last 
Sunday  night?" 

Daniel  answered  readily  enough  : 

"I  spent  the  whole  day  Sunday  in  La  Bien- 
venida  and  returned  at  midnight,  as  my  mother 
can  tell  you."  He  had  feared  a  more  difficult 
question. 

4 '  You  knew  the  plan  of  our  enemies  and  went 
away  from  the  ranch  to  avoid  being  concerned  in 
it  ;  am  I  right  ?  " 

Daniel  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"What  would  you  have?"  he  replied.  "I 
alone  could  not  have  persuaded  them  to  give  up 
their  design, — I  tried,  indeed." 

"What  would  I  have?"  repeated  Jose",  with  white 
lips.  "I  would  have  my  murdered  father  alive 


THE  BURIAL.  327 

now  !  I  would  have  that  murdered,  innocent  child 
again  in  his  mother's  arms  !  I  would  have  our 
mission  chapel  again  as  it  was !  And  I  will  tell 
you  what  I  will  have,"  he  continued,  rising  from 
his  seat  and  stepping  nearer  to  Daniel,  who  cringed 
before  the  tall,  commanding  figure  standing  above 
him  ;  "  if  you  are  not  out  of  the  way  by  six  o'clock 
this  afternoon,  when  the  police  come  from  La 
Providencia,  I  shall  hand  you  over  to  them,  as 
the  vile  traitor  that  you  are !  Do  not  think  that 
I  do  not  know  of  more  than  one  crime  of  yours 
during  these  weeks  that  you  have  spent  here, 
which  I  would  scorn  to  name  to  you.  Now  go  !  " 
Jose  sank  exhausted  on  the  bench,  while  Daniel, 
obedient  to  his  orders,  hurried  away. 

Nobody  had  interrupted  the  dialogue,  for  it 
had  all  passed  in  a  few  seconds  of  time,  and  Jose" 
soon  recovered  sufficiently  to  say  in  a  melancholy 
tone  :  "I  beg  the  pardon  of  you  all,  for  such 
words  and  behavior  in  your  presence ;  but  it  was 
impossible  to  let  the  fellow  go  without  a  word. 
If  I  had  not  called  him  then  he  would  have 
slipped  off  without  letting  any  one  know  !  " 

"  How  did  you  know  that  he  went  to  La  Bien- 
venida,  brother  ?"  Petra  asked. 

"  Because  Diego,  who  went  with  him,  came  and 
told  me  all  about  it  this  morning.  He,  poor  fel- 
low, is  full  of  remorse,  although  he  took  only  the 
part  Daniel  did  in  the  affair,  and  had  done  his 
best,  Sunday  morning,  to  persuade  some  of  the 


328  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

others  to  give  up  the  whole  thing.  He  will  not 
tell  the  names  of  any  of  them,  however,  and  I  did 
not  urge  him,  for  I  am  sick  almost  to  death  of  all 
this."  The  poor  fellow  did  indeed  look  so,  as  he 
leaned  his  head  with  closed  eyes  against  his  step- 
mother's shoulder  for  a  moment.  Then  he  roused 
himself,  suddenly,  and  began  speaking  again 
earnestly  : 

"  Daniel  is  weak,  pitifully  weak,  and  I  am  glad 
enough  to  have  him  gone.  He  was  always  so  in 
our  childhood  together ;  you  remember,  Petra, 
how  deceitful  he  was  and  sly.  But  he  will  soon 
be  gone,  and  there  will  be  an  end  of  him,  until  he 
conies  again.  It  was  about  Diego  that  I  wished 
to  speak  to  you,  Mr.  Richards,  as  I  have  already 
said  to  the  senorita.  He  tells  me  that  there  is  a 
general  feeling  of  great  sorrow  among  the  men 
who  took  part  in  the  mob  Sunday  night,  and  that 
if  they  only  dared  to  confess  their  part  in  it  they 
would  be  glad  to  come  to  us  and  beg  forgiveness. 
He  says  that  there  are  still  some  men  and  women 
who  continue  very  bitter, — old  Juana  among  them 
I  judge, — but  he  knows  even  those  to  be  very 
thoroughly  cowed.  And  the  idea  has  come  to 
me — ah,  the  senorita  has  guessed  it !  "  he  added, 
with*  a  brighter  smile  than  had  been  seen  on  his 
face  since  that  last  Sunday  morning. 

"The  church  !  "  exclaimed  Mary,  softly,  grasp- 
ing one  of  Raquel's  hands. 

"  Yes,  that  is  it,"  Jose"  assented.     "  If  you,  Mr. 


THE   BURIAL.  339 

Richards,  think  it  a  wise  time  to  act  now,  I  had 
thought  it  might  be  well  to  invite  all  the  men  to 
meet  us  here  and  to  ask  all  who  feel  willing  to  do 
so  to  offer  their  services  in  renovating  the  little 
church  out  there  and  completing  it  for  our  own 
mission  church.  What  do  you  say  ?  " 

"I  think  it  a  very  good  plan,  indeed,  Jose," 
Mr.  Richards  replied,  thoughtfully.  "You  will 
offer  them  regular  wages,  of  course ;  and  those 
who  do  not  accept  will  be  afraid  to  oppose,  I  firmly 
believe." 

"And  then,"  added  Miss  Summers,  "it  may 
relieve  some  of  those  wretched  men  who  are  really 
sorry  for  what  they  have  done  and  are  afraid  to 
say  so,  and  we  shall  all  be  drawn  more  closely  to- 
gether by  the  work.  What  do  you  say,  dear 
Raquel?" 

"  That  it  shall  be  as  all  of  you  decide,"  the 
woman  replied,  quickly  and  sadly.  The  shadow 
brought  into  her  life  as  a  consequence  in  part  of 
her  own  act,  would  never  be  entirely  lifted, 
although  she  knew  that  if  it  was  all  to  be  done 
over  again,  her  decision  would  be  the  same. 
That  afternoon  was  fixed  upon  for  the  conference 
of  the  ranch  and  the  little  party  separated. 

The  young  missionary  and  her  companions  were 
glad  to  stretch  their  limbs  and  warm  their  chilled 
feet  with  a  bracing  walk  across  the  three  miles  of 
prairie  to  El  Porvenir.  Though  the  sun  was 
warm,  the  breeze  was  strong  and  fresh,  and  they 


330  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

all  enjoyed  exchanging  for  a  while  the  saddened 
atmosphere  of  the  Vera  house  for  the  glad,  free 
air  of  the  plain. 

Miss  Summers  told  them  of  her  adventure  in 
,the  storm  on  that  same  road  with  Captain  Daniel, 
and  of  her  refuge  in  the  chapel  tower. 

"  What  a  little  coward  he  looked  just  now  when 
Jos£  was  pitching  into  him,"  said  Roger  Douglas, 
with  a  laugh.  "  Of  course  I  understood  very  little 
of  what  was  said,  but  the  little  fellow  turned 
quite  yellow  under  his  soldier-cap." 

"Jose  thinks  he  has  been  flirting  with  the  pretty 
child  Angela  Vera,  whom  I  used  to  pet  years  ago 
when  I  first  began  coming  to  the  ranch,"  remarked 
Mr.  Richards.  "What  do  you  think  of  it,  Miss 
Summers  ?  Has  the  girl  lost  her  heart  to  him  ?  " 

"  Not  to  Daniel;  no,  indeed  !"  Miss  Summers 
replied. 

"  To  whom  then  ?  "  in  some  surprise. 

( '  I  think  she  likes  Jose*.  Now  she  fears  that  he 
will  not  like  her  since  she  has  had  small-pox  and 
has  lost  much  of  her  beauty." 

"They  are  first  cousins,"  remarked  Mr.  Rich- 
ards ;  ' '  for  Ignacio  and  Eduardo  were  brothers. 
We  must  look  for  another  wife  for  Jose".  Who 
shall  it  be,  Miss  Mary  ;  any  one  at  the  ranch  ?  " 

"Jose"  would  perhaps  like  best  to  choose  for 
himself,"  suggested  Roger,  dryly.  "I  should,  I 
am  sure." 

"Then  we  will   leave  it   to   him,"  said   Mr. 


THE   BURIAL.  331 

Richards,  as  if  with  an  air  of  relief.  ( '  No  doubt 
he  can  best  suit  himself.  Only  look,"  he  added, 
with  a  swift  change  of  the  subject,  "and  see  those 
cloud  shadows  on  the  mountain  sides.  I  think  I 
never  saw  the  mountains  so  blue  as  they  are  to- 
day ;  and  farther  on,  is  there  not  ? — yes,  there  is 
snow  on  the  Buena  Vista  peak !  " 

And  so  they  strolled  along,  playing  bo-peep 
with  the  inquisitive  but  cowardly  little  prairie 
dogs,  chatting  and  laughing,  and  indulging  in  one 
of  those  free  and  careless  hours  so  much  relished 
by  the  care-worn  missionary  on  a  foreign  field. 

Jose  meanwhile  sat  alone  in  the  court-yard, 
while  the  women  of  the  house  went  about  pre- 
paring dinner  for  their  guests.  Their  hearts  were 
heavy,  and  no  songs  issued  from  the  kitchen  to- 
day. Little  Benjamin,  oppressed  by  the  gloom 
of  the  place  and  missing  his  old  father's  caresses, 
strolled  past  his  silent  brother  and  out  at  the  gates 
to  find  some  cheerful  little  playfellow. 

Refugio,  sitting  on  a  low  stool  at  Mary's  door, 
was  busily  sewing,  hushing,  remorsefully,  the  song 
that  rose  every  few  moments  to  her  lips.  The 
song  was  in  her  heart,  but  sadness  for  her  friends 
was  there  too,  and  "  How  happy  are  they  who  the 
Saviour  obey ' '  seemed  a  sentiment  that  was  almost 
a  mockery  in  view  of  the  sorrow  that  might  follow 
such  obedience.  Her  sweet  young  face  grew  very 
grave  as  she  bent  over  her  work,  puzzling  herself 
with  this  thought,  and  she  was  quite  unconscious 


332  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

of  the  pretty  picture  she  made  as  she  sat  there. 
The  dark-blue  rebozo  had  fallen  from  her  head, 
which  was  now  covered  with  short,  shining  waves 
of  black  hair;  the  liquid,  black  eyes  were  invisible 
as  she  bent  them  upon  her  work,  but  long  lashes 
swept  her  round,  olive  cheek,  and  her  lips  were 
as  red  as  twin  cherries.  Presently  her  hands 
dropped  upon  her  lap,  and  she  leaned  back  with 
a  sigh. 

Jose  had  been  watching  her  for  a  while,  idly  at 
first,  as  he  sat  helpless  in  his  father's  old  arm- 
chair on  the  other  side  of  the  court ;  then  he  grew 
interested  as  he  realized  the  beauty  of  the  girl  and 
noted  the  intent  expression  of  her  face.  He  re- 
called the  wan,  emaciated  little  creature  who  had 
lifted  great,  appealing  eyes  in  such  surprise  at 
every  kind  word  when  she  had  first  come  to  San 
Bernabe".  She  had  since  proved  herself  a  most 
winning,  affectionate  girl,  and  even  Petra  seemed 
to  have  long  since  forgotten  that  she  had  not 
always  belonged  to  the  house.  When  she  sighed, 
Jose"  started  from  his  reverie. 

1 '  What  is  the  matter,  Cuca  ?  "  he  asked.  ' '  Why 
are  you  sighing?"  His  tone  was  as  caressing  as 
if  he  was  addressing  Benjamin  or  some  other  little 
child.  Refugio  only  smiled,  then  sighed  again 
as  she  took  up  her  work. 

"  Are  you  so  very  busy,  Cuca  ? ' '  Jose"  then  asked. 
' '  I  am  very  thirsty,  and  as  I  have  no  arms  now,  I 
may  die  of  thirst  sitting  here  while  the  others  are 


THE   BURIAI,.  323 

busy  in  the  kitchen,  unless  you  will  get  me  some 
water."  He  smiled  ruefully  as  he  spoke,  and 
Refugio  gladly  hastened  to  the  well  to  draw  it 
fresh  for  him. 

"  It  is  very  lonely  for  you,  sitting  here,"  she 
said,  after  he  had  drunk  from  the  tin  dipper  she 
held  to  his  lips. 

'  Then  bring  your  stool  over  here,  and  talk  to 
me,"  he  suggested.  "  You  can  sew  at  the  same 
time." 

"  May  I,  Petra  ?  "  she  asked,  as  the  woman  ap- 
peared at  the  kitchen  door. 

"  May  you  what,  Cuquita  ?  " 

"  Come  over  here  and  sit  by  Don  Jose,  and  talk 
to  him  ;  he  is  so  lonely  !  " 

"Why  yes,  silly  child!  Of  course  you  may 
amuse  Jose,  poor  fellow." 

Then  she  carried  her  stool  and  her  work  and  sat 
down  not  far  from  Jose's  feet. 

"  Now  you  will  tell  me  why  you  were  sighing 
just  now,  little  one,"  he  said,  watching  the  steady, 
brown  fingers  as  they  stitched  away.  The  fingers 
were  not  so  white  and  pink-tipped  as  the  young 
missionary's,  but  they  were  just  as  shapely,  and 
the  plump  hand  was  even  smaller  than  Miss 
Summers'. 

When  Refugio  confided  to  him  her  puzzle  sug- 
gested by  the  hymn,  Jos<!  looked  grave. 

!<^You  and  I  are  only  little  children  yet,"  he  re- 
plied, after  thinking  a  moment.  "  And  I  suppose 


334  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

we  ought  not  to  try  to  understand  all  the  hard 
things.  We  are  all  sad  here  to-day,  Cuca,  but  I  be- 
lieve that  in  a  sense  we  are  really  happier  than  we 
have  been  for  a  long  time.  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  know  what  you  mean,  and  that  is  what  gives 
the  look  to  your  face,  which  is  not  like  what  it  was, 
Don  Jose",  before  you  went  to  La  Providencia  with 
the  Senorita  Maria.  I  think  I  also  feel  it  a  little, 
in  my  heart,"  she  ended,  timidly. 

"  I  am  sure  you  do,  dear  child,"  Jose"  answered. 
"  I  know  that  it  sometimes  must  take  great  con- 
fidence in  him  to  believe  that  God  is  doing  just 
the  very  best  thing  for  us  when  it  may  seem  to  us 
the  worst.  But  I  think  we  must  trust  him,  after 
all,  Cuca  ;  and  then  I  am  sure  that  we  ought  to  be 
willing  to  suffer  if  it  is  for  the  good  of  his  cause 
amohg  our  people.  So  I  think  you  may  sing  your 
hymn,  even  to-day,  Cuca." 

The  tears  were  dropping  from  her  eyes  upon  her 
work,  as  Jose"  finished  speaking,  and  his  heart 
warmed  toward  her  whom  he  was  comforting  with 
his  own  comfort. 

"How  wonderful  it  is !  "  she  exclaimed,  lifting 
her  brimming  eyes  to  Jose" ;  "  I  thought  once  that 
I  could  never  love  any  one  so  well  as  the  Senorita 
Maria,  and  now  I  know  that  I  love  the  Lord  just 
as  well." 

Jose"  was  silent  then,  and  they  sat  thus  until 
Petra  called  them  in  to  their  early  dinner. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  CONFERENCE  AT  THE  BARN. 

With  well-doing  ye  may  put  to  silence  the  ignorance  of  foolish 
men. — i  Peter  2  :  15. 

I  have  news  of  the  priest  Esteban,  Jose*,"  Mr. 
Richards  whispered,  as  he  took  his  seat  by 
the  side  of  the  latter  that  afternoon  on  the  bench 
where  they  had  rested  in  the  morning. 

"And  what  has  become  of  him,  senor?"  Jose 
asked,  frowning.  The  men  and  women  of  the 
ranch  were  beginning  to  come  together  in  the 
square  before  the  barn,  for  word  had  soon  traveled, 
from  house  to  house,  that  Jose  wished  to  speak  to 
as  many  as  would  gather  at  the  appointed  hour. 
He  dreaded  the  interview,  for  he  was  weak  and 
nervous  from  his  wounds,  and  his  heart  was  sore, 
and  the  mention  of  the  priest  now  roused  in  his 
breast  such  bitterness  of  feeling  that  he  found  it 
hard  to  control  his  voice. 

Must  he  forgive  this  man  whose  bad  influence 
among  the  people  had  led  to  such  disastrous  re- 
sults in  their  peaceful  little  community  ?  There 
was  no  time  to  settle  this  question  then,  however, 
for  Mr.  Richards  continued  speaking. 

"Juan  Gutierrez,  in  El  Porvenir,  told  me  this 

335 


336  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

morning  that  it  is  rumored  from  S that  the 

priest  has  gone  over  to  the  United  States.  It  is 
given  out  that  he  has  been  sent  to  San  Antonio, 
Texas,  on  a  mission  of  importance  for  the  church. 
I  do  not  think  we  need  fear  ever  seeing  him  again 
about  San  Bernabe*.  When  such  men  as  Don 
Gregorio  and  your  nephew,  the  captain,  were  his 
allies,  he  would  fear  to  return  here." 

"I  only  wish  he  would  return,"  murmured 
Jose" ;  two  red  spots  were  burning  on  his  pale 
cheeks,  and  his  mood  was  entirely  changed  from 
what  it  had  been  in  the  morning,  as  he  had  talked 
with  Refugio  in  the  court. 

The  sight  of  the  men,  some  slouching  with 
feigned  carelessness  toward  the  well,  other  ap- 
proaching a  little  nearer  the  bench  where  he  sat, 
and  wearing  the  flush  of  shame  and  dread  upon 
their  faces,  roiised  all  the  sternness  in  his  nature, 
as  he  saw  before  him  the  murderers  of  aged  and 
helpless  innocence. 

The  men  were  afraid  to  stay  away,  partly  be- 
cause they  feared  that  their  absence  would  seem 
like  an  admission  of  guilt,  and  partly  because  they 
had  inherited  several  generations  of  respect  and 
even  reverence  for  the  head  of  the  ranch  commu- 
nity. All  looked  to  Jose",  involuntarily,  as  the  suc- 
cessor of  his  father,  although  there  had  been  as 
yet  no  general  meeting  of  the  family  in  the  pres- 
ent strained  condition  of  the  family  relations. 

Many  had  come  from  a  strong  curiosity  to  know 


THE  CONFERENCE  AT  THE  BARN.          337 

what  Jose  could  have  to  say  to  them,  and  soon 
after  four  o'clock  the  open  space  was  nearly  filled 
with  quiet  groups  of  waiting  hearers. 

Jose  and  Mr.  Richards  were  joined  by  the  rest 
of  the  household,  and  Miss  Summers  sat  close  at 
Raquel's  side,  grasping  the  woman's  hand  with 
her  own,  beneath  the  black  shawl  which  covered 
the  latter's  head  and  shoulders. 

Jose  arose,  and  steadying  himself  by  leaning 
with  his  back  against  the  adobe  wall  of  the  barr^ 
began  to  speak  a  little  feebly,  yet  with  much 
meaning. 

Many  hearts  swelled  with  sympathy  at  the  sight 
of  the  strong  young  man  in  his  weakness  and 
pain. 

"  I  shall  not  make  a  long  address,"  he  began, 
"  for  there  is  not  much  to  say.  There  is  no  need 
to  recount  to  any  the  events  of  the  past  few 
days.  Many  doubtless,  know  much  more  about 
them  than  I  do."  Some  heads  sank  lower  as  he 
paused  for  a  moment.  "  This  is  not  a  court  of  jus- 
tice," he  continued  ;  "  nor  am  I  your  judge.  You 
have  a  greater  than  I  who  will  make  wiser  judg- 
ment of  the  crimes  committed  here  last  Sunday 
night,  than  I  could  do.  Of  course,  I  know  cer- 
tain ones  among  you  who  are  my  friends,  and  I 
am  aware  that  there  are  others  who  are  entirely 
guiltless  of  any  share  in  what  has  been  done.  It 
would  not  be  difficult  to  call  the  names  of  those 
who  were  foremost  in  the  affair,  after  their  leaders, 

w 


33$  A   MEXICAN  RANCH. 

Padre  Esteban  and  Don  Gregorio.  I  could  even 
go  among  you  now,  I  have  little  doubt,  and  lay 
my  finger  here  and  there,  upon  such  and  such  a 
man  and  say,  '  This  man,  perhaps,  was  my  father's 
murderer,  for  he  was  among  the  others,  and  no 
one  knows  that  it  was  not  his  stone  which  struck 
him  down.'  I  shall  not  do  this,  however.  As 
you  may  know,  the  mayor  of  La  Providencia  has 
been  notified  of  your  doings,  and  his  men  will  be 
among  us  to-morrow,  perhaps,  as  they  have  not 
come  to-day.  What  you  do  not  know  is  that  I 
shall  not  aid  them  in  their  search  for  the  crimi- 
nals, further  than  to  state  the  simple  facts  of  the 
case,  as  I  shall  swear  to  no  names.  You  must  look 
out  for  yourselves  !  " 

"Ah,  our  good  Jose",  our  kind  Jose"  !  "  exclaimed 
several  women's  voices. 

"  No ! "  he  cried  sternly  and  hoarsely.  "  Do 
you  think,  men,  that  I  would  stand  in  the  way 
of  justice  being  done  to  the  real  criminals,  those 
cowards,  Gregorio  Nunez  and  Esteban  Lopez  ? 
The  first  is  in  the  hands  of  God's  justice  now,  and 
we  could  add  nothing  to  his  punishment.  That 
same  Hand  will  be  over  the  movements  of  the 
priest  Esteban,  on  whichever  side  of  the  Rio 
Grande  he  may  be  found.  But,  I  am  willing  to 
give  you  all  a  chance  to  prove  your  sorrow  for  the 
calamities  you  have  caused,  and  to  prove  your  real 
fidelity  to  us,  which  has  never  before  failed.  My 
friends,"  Jose*  was  softening  now,  and  the  red 


THE  CONFERENCE  AT  THE  BARN.          339 

flush  died  out  of  his  cheeks,  and  left  them  very 
pale,  "I  hope  we  understand  each  other  now,  and 
that  we  shall  begin  all  over  again  our  lives  to- 
gether. There  must  be  peace  among  us,  or  we 
shall  end  our  days  in  remorse  and  unhappiness. 
Each  one  shall  worship  God  according  to  his  own 
conscience,  but  this  shall  not  prevent  us  who 
think  differently  in  this  matter  from  many  of  you, 
from  trying  to  persuade  you  to  know  the  truth 
as  it  is  in  Jesus.  What  do  you  say,  men  and 
women?"  He  paused  breathless,  and  drank 
eagerly  from  the  glass  of  water  which  Mr. 
Richards  put  to  his  lips.  He  shook  his  head, 
however,  when  the  latter  advised  him  to  rest 
awhile  before  continuing  his  speech. 

One  man  stood  out  from  the  rest,  and  with  real 
humility  of  manner  replied  to  Jose's  last  appeal  : 
"We  have  been  talking  and  thinking  about  this 
matter  of  religion,  Don  Jose*,  and  most  of  us  have 
agreed,  since  Sunday  night,  that  every  man  has  a 
right  to  think  for  himself  in  this,  and  to  accept 
or  reject  this  new  doctrine  which  the  Americanos 
have  brought  to  us,  and  that  each  one  has  an  equal 
right  to  preach  and  teach  what  he  thinks  is  the 
truth.  Am  I  right,  fellows  ?  "  he  asked,  turning 
around  upon  the  crowd  of  listening  faces.  This 
man  was  Diego,  who  had  already  spoken  with  Jose*. 
''  Yes,  yes  !  "  came  from  many  of  the  men,  and 
from  a  few  of  the  women,  while  all  looked 
amenable  to  reason,  if  only  a  few  spoke. 


34°  A  MEXICAN  RANCH. 

"  And  we'll  take  care  of  all  those  who  want  to 
interfere  with  the  Sefiorita  Maria  in  her  work," 
said  the  deep  voice  of  a  man,  who  stood  a  little 
away  from  the  groups,  and  had  been  looking  with 
thoughtful  sadness  upon  the  black-robed  figures 
of  Petra  and  Dona  Raquel. 

All  eyes  turned  in  amazement  toward  the  point 
from  which  the  voice  proceeded. 

"  Don  Daniel  Vera  !  "  whispered  Miss  Summers 
to  Roger  Douglas,  who  stood  at  her  side.  "  Dona 
Rosa's  husband,  and  I  suppose  this  is  the  first 
time  he  has  ever  raised  his  voice  contrary  to  his 
wife's  opinions  ! " 

"  Thank  you,  brother,"  returned  Jose",  with  a 
grave  smile,  "  and  thank  you  too,  friends.  Now,  I 
have  something  else  to  tell  you,  and  I  beg  you  to 
hear  me  to  the  end,  before  forming  your  decision 
upon  my  proposal  to  you.  You  all  know  the  his- 
tory of  the  unfinished  chapel  over  there,"  pointing 
to  the  gray  walls  showing  through  a  gap  in  the 
houses.  "  We  have  now  decided  to  complete  the 
building  immediately,  and  to  dedicate  it  to  the 
worship  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  It  will  require 
some  pulling  down  and  rebuilding  before  the  work 
can  be  much  advanced,"  he  continued,  not 
heeding  the  glances  of  mingled  interest  and  con- 
sternation exchanged  among  his  hearers;  "but 
with  a  large  force  of  workmen  in  this  beautiful 
weather,  I  think  the  church  will  be  ready  for  use 
by  Easter.  Now,  hear  my  proposal :  every  man 


THE   CONFERENCE  AT  THE   BARN.          341 

of  you  who  is  willing  to  help  us  go  on  with  the 
work  will  receive  the  usual  wages  per  day.  You 
will  thus  be  helping  to  support  your  families, 
while  there  is  little  to  be  done  in  the  fields,  and 
you  will  give  good  proofs  of  your  friendship  for 
me  in  aiding  me  in  this.  Those  who  are  willing 
to  go  to  work  to-morrow  on  the  chapel  walls,  may 
raise  their  right  hands  to  signify  their  assent,  and 
then  after  Mr.  Richards  has  spoken  a  few  words  to 
you,  I  hope  you  will  come  up  one  by  one,  here  to 
Senor  Douglas,  who  will  enroll  your  names  for 
me  in  my  book,  so  that  I  may  know  on  whom  I 
may  depend  for  the  work.  I  do  not  wish  to  send 

to    S for    masons    and    carpenters,    friends. 

Now!" 

Every  one  raised  his  hand  at  the  same  instant, 
for  Jose's  mild,  yet  stirring  words  had  bred  an 
enthusiasm  in  every  breast,  not  for  the  religion 
which  Jose  represented,  but  for  Jose'  himself, 
whom  every  one  in  the  ranch  admired  and  loved. 

Jose"  bowed  his  head  in  gratified  recognition  of 
the  demonstration,  and  then  sank  half  exhausted 
to  his  seat. 

There  was  not  the  cheering  that  there  would 
have  been  but  for  the  peculiar  circumstances 
attending  the  case,  but  animation  beamed  from 
every  eye,  and  a  feeling  of  content  filled  many  a 
heart  at  this  opportunity  for  reinstatement  in  their 
friend's  good  graces. 

Then   Mr.    Richards  stepped  forward  and  ad- 


342  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

dressed  them  in  a  few  simple  words,  closing 
with  : 

"  It  is  growing  late  now,  and  there  is  but  one 
thing  more  I  wish  to  tell  you  before  you  come  to 
give  your  names  to  Senor  Douglas  here.  There 
will  be  a  short  prayer  meeting  in  Dona  Raquel's 
sala  to-night  at  eight  o'clock.  She  wishes  to 
invite  all  of  you  to  be  present." 

With  this  the  conference  ended  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  most  who  had  attended.  Of  course  there 
were  still  left  those  who  would  give  only  hand — 
not  heart — service  in  the  building  undertaken  by 
them,  and  there  were  some  dissatisfied  spirits 
turning  restlessly  upon  hard  beds  that  night ;  but 
a  general  spirit  of  peace  was  diffused  through  the 
ranch  and  many  firm  resolves  were  made  for  future 
good  behavior. 

The  prayer  meeting  at  night  was  well  attended, 
and  though  there  were  neither  hymn  books  nor 
organ,  the  singing  was  very  full  and  sweet.  The 
tears  flowed  from  Dona  Raquel's  eyes  as  she  and 
Petra  stood  with  the  rest  of  the  newly  baptized 
members  to  receive  the  hand  of  fellowship  given 
by  Mr.  Richards  first,  and  then  by  all  the  other 
members  of  the  little  church. 

As  Miss  Summers  lightly  touched  Josh's  right 
hand,  as  it  half  rested  in  the  sling,  she  noticed  an 
expression  of  deep  melancholy  in  his  eyes  which 
she  could  not  understand. 

As  the  congregation  dispersed  at  the  end  of  the 


THE  CONFERENCE  AT  THE  BARN.          343 

service,  he  came  over  to  her  side  and  begged  that 
he  might  speak  with  her  a  few  moments  in  private. 
She  knew  that  only  great  necessity  could  induce 
Jose  to  make  such  a  request  now,  so  she  willingly 
assented  and  invited  him  to  come  to  her  room. 
When  the  court  was  emptied  at  last  Jose"  followed 
her,  then  began  to  speak  abruptly,  still  standing. 

"  Sit  down,  Jose, ' '  she  said.  ' '  I  know  that  you 
must  be  fatigued.  Is  your  arm  troubling  you  ?  I 
feared  it  would  be  worse  after  the  excitement  of 
to-day." 

"Yes,  it  is  very  painful,  I  believe,"  then  he 
laughed  slightly  ;  ' '  rather,  I  know  it  is.  But  it  is 
not  of  that  I  wish  to  speak  to  you.  I  have  come 
to  you  because  I  think  you  will  understand  me 
better  than  any  one  else.  Senorita,  I  am  a  hypo- 
crite, and  I  had  no  right  to  stand  there  to-night 
and  be  received  .into  the  fellowship  of  the 
church. 

"  What  can  you  mean,  Jose*  ?  "  Mary  asked, 
kindly.  She  saw  that  he  was  suppressing  some 
excitement  under  a  forced  quiet  of  tone. 

"I  mean  that  I  cannot  forgive  that  coward 
Esteban  for  the  ruin  he  has  brought  to  us,"  he  re- 
plied, fiercely.  "  And  is  that  the  way  a  Christian 
ought  to  feel?  " 

"  No,"  Mary  replied,  gently.  "  You  know  our 
Master's  will  about  our  enemies.  He  prayed  for 
his  when  they  had  done  all  they  could,  taking 
from  him  his  reputation  and  then  his  life." 


344  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"  But  I  am  not  God,  and  I  cannot  act  as  God 
does." 

"Can  you  pray  for  this  priest,  Jose*?"  Mary 
asked.  "  Do  you  not  wish  that  he  may  repent  of 
his  wickedness  and  become  converted  !  " 

"  Yes,"  Jose  replied,  slowly,  u  I  suppose  I  could 
pray  for  him.  I  would  not  wish  the  fellow  to  die 
as  he  is,  I  am  sure.  But  that  is  not  the  trouble  ;  I 
ought  to  forgive  him  whether  he  repents  or  not. 
As  a  Christian,  I  ought  to  feel  toward  him  as  I  did 
before  I  found  him  to  be  the  rascal  he  is,  but  I 
cannot. ' ' 

"  Does  God  do  so?  Does  he  forgive  the  sinner, 
before  he  shows  some  sign  of  repentance  and 
desire  for  reinstatement  ?  I  think  not,  Jose* ;  and  I 
do  not  believe  that  we  are  called  upon  to  do  more 
than  God  does  in  the  matter  of  forgiveness." 

"  Do  you  think  then,  senorita,  that  I  need  not 
try  and  forgive  him  ?  " 

"You  must  try  to  forgive  him,  Jose*,  in  so  far 
that  you  will  be  able  to  pray  that  God  will  change 
his  heart,  and  that  he  may  be  brought  to  ask  for- 
giveness from  God  ;  you  must  get  rid  of  your 
anger  against  him,  and  learn  to  think  of  him  with 
calmness  and  with  a  desire  to  help  him  to  be  a 
better  man,  if  an  opportunity  shall  present  itself. 
The  Bible  is  very  clear  on  this  point  I  think,  and 
I  believe  that  this  is  what  is  meant  by  '  Forgive 
your  enemies.'  As  to  the  reinstatement  of  the  man 
into  his  former  position  in  your  esteem,  before  your 


THE   CONFERENCE  *AT  THE   BARN.          345 

eyes  were  opened  to  his  character,  that  is  as  yet 
an  impossibility,  and  is  not  required  of  you.  Per- 
haps, however,  you  would  better  talk  with  Mr. 
Richards  about  it,  as  I  do  not  wish  to  mislead  you, 
and  it  is  a  difficult  subject." 

'  Thank  you,  senorita,  for  what  you  have  said, 
and  I  do  not  need  to  speak  to  Mr.  Richards.  You 
have  made  it  clearer  already.  I  do  want  to  do 
what  is  right,  and  I  shall  try  to  feel  differently 
about  the  fellow. ' ' 

"  And  God  will  surely  help  you  to  a  right  for- 
giveness of  him  in  time,  Jose,  if  you  will  ask  him 
to  do  so,  and  if  you  will  be  very  careful  to  cast  out 
all  the  ill  will  that  you  have  felt  for  him." 

"  I  shall  indeed  try  to  do  so.  I  do  not  know 
how  I  can  ever  thank  you  for  the  help  you  have 
always  given  me,  senorita,"  he  added,  as  he  arose 
to  go.  ' '  You  are  going  away  to-morrow,  and  it 
may  be  a  long  while  before  you  return,  and  we 
shall  miss  you  at  every  step  ;  but  I,  for  one,  shall 
try  to  do  my  best,  remembering  you." 

"  And  Jose,"  Mary  began,  after  hesitating  a  mo- 
ment, "  I  want  you  to  help  me  about  something." 
"  Only  tell  me  what  it  is,  senorita." 
"  I  am  leaving  my  Refugio,  you  know,  with 
Petra.     She  will  be  good  to  her  ;  but  I  want  you 
for  a  kind  of  elder  brother  for  her,  who  will  watch 
over  her  a  little.     She  is  a  woman  now,  though 
she  is  so  small,  and  already  one  or  two  young 
fellows  have  begun  to . " 


346  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"  You  may  trust  her  to  me,  senorita,"  Jose*  ex- 
claimed, hastily ;  "no  one  shall  speak  with  her 
while  you  are  gone.  You  may  trust  me." 

"  I  do  not  mean  for  you  to  go  as  far  as  that," 
and  Mary  smiled  into  his  earnest  face  ;  "just  watch 
over  her  a  little.  I  know  she  will  give  you  no 
trouble,  as  she  is  a  sweet,  docile  child." 

They  parted  then,  and  Mary  called  Refugio  to 
help  her  pack  her  small  trunk  for  the  journey  next 
day;  for  Mr.  Richards  had  at  length  prevailed 
upon  her  to  give  the  children- a  longer  vacation 

and  to  return  with  him  to  S ,  for  the  Christmas 

holidays  at  least.  She  was  not  consciously  ill,  but 
even  her  strong  health  was  suffering  from  the  long 
strain  of  nursing  and  excitement,  and  her  sleep 
had  grown  fitful,  while  her  appetite  had  vanished, 
and  at  length  all  urged  her  to  yield  to  Mr.  Richards' 
advice.  So  she  and  Refugio  had  their  last  even- 
ing chat  together  for  several  weeks,  and  many 
bright  tears  were  folded  away  within  the  beloved 
senorita's  dresses,  as  Refugio  laid  them  in  the 
trunk. 

The  same  evening  Mr.  Richards  made  the  hearts 
of  the  Vera  family  glad  by  the  promise  of  a  per- 
manent pastor  from  among  the  mission  circle  at 

S for  the  little  church,  as  soon  as  the  new 

building  should  be  completed,  and  he  communi- 
cated to  them  Miss  Summers'  wish  to  give  the 
sum  necessary  for  building  a  comfortable  little 
parsonage  near  the  church. 


THE   CONFERENCE   AT  THE   BARN.          347 

"She  wishes  me  to  say,  however,"  continued 
Mr. -Richards,  "that  she  would  like  to  continue 
living  with  you  as  long'as  you  have  room  foi 

her,  whoever  may  come  here  from  S as  pastor. 

She  will  be  happier  with  you." 

v{  God  grant  that  she  may  live  under  my  roof 
all  her  life !  "  said  Raquel,  fervently.  And  Petra's 
contented  expression  at  the  news  found  a  reflection 
in  Jose's  expressive  countenance.  Content  and 
peace  had  returned  to  his  heart,  and  the  mission- 
ary wondered  at  the  new  beauty,  which  Refugio 
had  already  noticed. 

He  then  expressed  to  them  his  intention  of  send- 
ing immediately  a  faithful  and  experienced  native 
worker,  who  should  live  among  them,  and  keep 
the  little  flock  together  and  minister  to  its  needs. 

"  Mother  is  anxious  that  we  should  have  a 
prayer  service  here  every  night,  senor,"  Jose*  said, 
as  they  were  separating.  "  It  may  be  that  while 
the  people  are  a  little  softened  there  may  be  some 
impression  for  good  made  upon  them.  Just 
among  the  brethren  of  the  church  we  might  carry 
on  the  services  for  a  week  or  so,  until  help  comes. " 

There  were  many  thankful  hearts  that  night  in 
the  ranch,  as  the  moon  shed  her  soft  light  over  the 
plain,  and  sleep  was  sounder  and  sweeter  than  for 
many  nights  past. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

FROM  THE  RANCH  TO  THE  CITY. 

I  rejoice  in  being  exactly  what  I  am — a  creature  capable  of  loving 
God,  and  who,  as  long  as  God  lives,  must  be  happy.  I  get  up  and 
look  for  a  while  out  of  the  window,  and  gaze  at  the  moon  and  stars, 
the  work  of  an  Almighty  hand.  I  think  of  the  grandeur  of  the  uni- 
verse, and  then  sit  down  and  think  myself  one  of  the  happiest  beings 
in  it. — A  poor  Methodist  -woman,  eighteenth  century. 

HTHB   diligence    between    La    Providencia   and 

-I      S ,  always  put  up  for  the  night  at  San 

Bernabe",  and  continued   its   way  the   next   day 

toward  S ,  where  it  arrived  before  midnight. 

As  this  diligence  was  apt  to  be  crowded  with 
rancheros,  and  as  it  was  a  most  uncomfortable  and 
dirty  vehicle,  Mr.  Richards  had  arranged  with 

Jose  that  they  should  be  sent  to  S in  the  Vera 

coach,  drawn  by  four  stout  mules. 

The  eastern  sky  still  showed  no  signs  of  day- 
break, and  the  stars  were  brightly  shining,  when 
the  last  farewells  were  said  the  next  morning,  and 
Mary  was  lifted  into  the  high,  old-fashioned  coach 
by  two  pairs  of  strong  arms.  The  two  gentlemen 
followed  her,  the  coach  door  was  closed  with  a 
sharp  bang,  the  driver  cracked  his  long  whip,  the 
mules  clattered  their  hoofs  upon  the  paving  stones 
of  the  court,  the  wide  gates  were  held  open,  and 
348 


FROM   THE   RANCH  TO  THE  CITY.          349 

the  coach  was  driven  with  a  flourish  through  the 
street  and  out  upon  the  prairie  road.  Early  as  it 
was,  many  of  the  ranch  people  had  risen  to 
"speed  their  parting  guests,"  and  the  coach  pro- 
ceeded amid  cheers  and  hearty  adios  ! 

Petra  had  arranged  the  back  seat  of  the  coach 
with  pillows  and  shawls,  and  Miss  Summers,  more 
willingly  than  she  would  have  owned,  yielded  to 
Mr.  Richards'  commands  and  snuggled  down  to 
rest  again,  as  soon  as  they  had  left  the  ranch  be- 
hind them. 

The  weird  light  of  the  "  wee  sina'  hours  "  rested 
over  mountain  and  plain,  and  the  cool  dews  of  the 
night  held  in  check  the  heavy,  white  dust  of  the 
road.  The  air  was  so  cold  that  it  was  necessary 
to  close  the  window  on  one  side  of  the  coach,  and 
the  three  occupants  were  well  wrapped  in  cloaks 
and  shawls.  The  driver  and  another  man  with 
him  on  the  box  were  muffled  in  red  blankets  up 
to  their  ears,  and  thus,  in  perfect  silence  for  the 
first  hour  or  two,  they  proceeded  at  a  rapid  trot 
along  the  level  road. 

Mr.  Richards  nodded  and  dozed  in  his  corner, 
for  he  was  too  much  accustomed  to  rough  journey- 
ings  by  night  and  day  to  be  easily  deprived  of  his 
morning  nap,  when  given  the  slightest  oppor- 
tunity for  indulging  in  one.  Roger  Douglas,  at 
his  side,  soon  followed  his  example  and  slept 
sweetly,  with  his  head  resting  in  the  corner  against 
the  cushioned  back  of  the  seat. 


350  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

For  a  long  while  the  young  teacher  lay  wide 
awake,  utterly  peaceful  and  at  rest.  She  realized 
that  there  was  to  be  no  more  responsibility  upon 
her  shoulders  for  several  weeks,  and  her  tired 
frame  yielded  to  the  delicious  sense  of  restfulness 
caused  by  this  remembrance.  There  was  nothing 
to  be  seen  from  her  pillow  but  the  multitude  of 
stars  in  the  dark  sky  and  the  far-away  dim  outline 
of  the  mountain  peaks  in  the  east.  Then  the 
morning  star  slowly  descended  within  her  horizon 
and  beamed  upon  her  through  the  coach  window, 
fading  gradually  before  the  coming  light  of  day. 
Refugio,  Petra,  Jose",  the  ranch,  her  companions 
in  the  coach,  all,  little  by  little,  slipped  away  out 
of  her  memory,  a  mistiness  seemed  to  gather  about 
the  world  outside,  framed  by  the  little  square  win- 
dow in  the  coach  door,  and  then  she  fell  asleep. 

When  Roger  Douglas,  an  hour  or  two  later,  re- 
covered himself  after  an  unusually  hard  bump 
against  his  corner,  he  was  surprised  to  find  that  he 
had  been  asleep.  The  birds  and  prairie  dogs  were 
awake  and  busy  about  their  morning  occupations, 
and  a  clear,  rosy  light  flooded  the  sky  and  plain. 
Mr.  Richards  still  nodded  and  shifted  his  head  un- 
comfortably, yet  still  dreamed  on. 

Mr.  Douglas  started  with  wonder  and  delight 
as  he  let  his  gaze  return  to  Miss  Summers  and 
rest  there  where  she  lay  quietly  sleeping  in  front 
of  him.  A  sudden  turn  in  the  road  had  brought 
her  face  to  face  with  the  pink  glow  in  the  east, 


FROM   THE   RANCH   TO   THE  CITY.  35! 

and  her  face  was  bathed  in  the  lovely  light  of  the 
morning  sky.  A  tender,  unearthly  beauty  illu- 
mined her  features,  which  had  grown  thin  and 
sharp  during  the  anxieties  of  the  past  days  and 
nights,  and  Roger  could  not  take  his  eyes  from  her 
face,  while  a  deep  tenderness  filled  his  heart  as  he 
watched  her  in  her  helpless  unconsciousness. 

Another  lurch  of  the  vehicle  roused  the  two 
sleepers,  however,  and  the  sleep  thus  roughly  ban- 
ished returned  no  more.  They  straightened  them- 
selves, laughing,  and  Mary  begged  to  be  allowed 
to  sit  up.  Then  all  found  themselves  very  hungry, 
and  on  inquiry,  Mr.  Richards  learned  from  the 
driver  that  half  an  hour  more  would  bring  them 
to  a  spring  in  a  sheltered  place  where  a  fire  might 
be  kindled. 

They  were  skirting  the  hills  now,  and  before 
they  reached  the  spring,  the  road  had  begun  to 
ascend,  entering  the  pass  through  the  mountains. 
The  sun  was  streaming  over  the  tree  tops  crown- 
ing the  mountains,  when  the  coach  stopped  and 
the  driver  opened  the  door.  There  in  the  canon, 
however,  it  was  still  cold  and  dusky,  and  the  fire 
hastily  kindled  by  the  two  serving  men  was  very 
agreeable  to  the  chilled  and  cramped  passengers 
when  they  alighted  and  stood  warming  their  hands 
and  feet  at  the  cheery  blaze.  Dried  mesquite 
branches  and  roots  made  a  red-hot  mass  of  coals 
after  the  blaze  of  the  lighter  wood  had  died  out, 
and  they  gathered  around  their  improvised  hearth 


352  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

and  ate  toasted  crackers  and  cheese  and  drank 
milk,  heated  over  the  coals,  until  they  were  greatly 
refreshed. 

The  scene  around  them  was  wild,  and  would 
grow  wilder  as  they  advanced  through  the  mount- 
ains. Here  and  there  patches  of  mountain  pines 
lifted  their  sturdy  branches  above  the  gray  rock  ; 
but  the  mountains  were  mostly  bare  and  rocky, 
and  the  road  through  the  canon  was  cut  at  the 
foot  of  great  rugged  cliffs,  while  steep  precipices 
fell  away  on  the  other  side  below  as  the  road 
climbed  higher  and  higher.  On  the  other  side  of 
the  ridge  the  prairie  rolled  again,  but  it  would  be 
evening  before  this  level  could  be  reached. 

A  little  stream  trickled  down  along  its  rocky 
pathway  from  the  icy  summit  above,  and  the 
travelers,  after  eating,  washed  their  hands  and 
faces  in  luxury  in  a  little  pool,  whose  edges  were 
fringed  by  the  hardy  mountain  fern. 

"We  have  the  whole  day  before  us,"  Mr.  Rich- 
ards remarked,  as  the  lunch  hamper  was  repacked 
and  they  were  about  to  re-enter  the  coach,  ' '  and 
as  much  of  the  night  as  we  need.  Suppose  we 
walk  on  a  little,  while  the  day  is  fresh  and  until 
we  are  tired,  then  we  shall  enjoy  riding  so  much 
the  more.  Come,  Miss  Mary,  are  you  equal  to  a 
climb  ?  " 

"Indeed  I  am,"  she  replied.  "  I  feel  all  made 
over  already." 

So  they  left  the  coach  behind,  slowly  and  care- 


FROM   THE   RANCH  TO   THE  CITY.          353 

fully  rounding  the  sharp  turns  as  the  road  ascended, 
and  the  three  pedestrians  stepped  out  briskly  in 
advance.  For  an  hour  or  so  they  walked,  until 
the  sun,  risen  higher  now,  poured  down  his  light 
and  heat  into  the  pass  and  they  were  glad  to  re- 
enter  the  coach,  which  had  passed  them  and  stood 
waiting  for  them  at  some  distance  ahead. 

The  forenoon  passed  pleasantly  in  the  coach, 
with  singing  of  songs  and  hymns  and  a  great  deal 
of  talk,  both  serious  and  gay.  Here  and  there, 
where  the  road  was  narrowest  and  most  difficult, 
they  passed  rude  crosses  erected  over  a  heap  of 
stones  by  the  wayside,  and  Mr.  Richards  explained 
that  these  marked  the  places  of  some  murder  when 
robberies  and  murder  had  been  rife  through  the 
mountains  only  a  few  years  before. 

'The  brigands  are  disappearing  from  the 
mountain  defiles  now,"  he  went  on;  "but  even 
now  I  should  not  like  to  ride  alone  in  the  night 
along  this  deserted  road.  Here,  quick!"  he 
added,  thrusting  his  pistol  into  Mary's  hand, 
' '  shoot !  There  he  is  skulking  behind  that  great 
rock.  Stop  for  a  moment,  driver." 

Mary,  greatly  startled,  and  having  not  the  least 
idea  of  her  intended  prey,  fired  blindly  ;  the  echo 
from  the  pistol  shot  reverberated  from  side  to  side 
of  the  ravine,  which  had  opened  wider  at  this 
point,  and  the  next  instant  they  saw  the  lank, 
yellow  body  of  a  wolf  skulking  behind  the  rocks 
and  bushes. 


354  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

"  Shoot  again  !  Quick  !  "  Mr.  Richards  cried  ; 
and  now  with  a  steadier  hand,  Mary  pulled  the 
trigger,  and  to  her  great  astonishment  the  wolf 
dropped  dead,  and  caine  tumbling  down  a  short 
way,  and  then  was  caught  and  held  by  the  under- 
brush. 

One  of  the  Mexicans  ran  to  the  spot,  and  after 
a  few  moments  returned  to  the  coach  window  in 
great  glee,  dragging  the  body  of  the  great,  gaunt 
creature  with  both  hands. 

"  She  gave  it  to  him  right  through  the  head, 
senores,"  he  cried,  enthusiastically.  "  What  a 
wonder  to  see  a  senorita  bring  down  a  wolf ! ' ' 
Mary  shuddered  at  the  sight  of  the  ugly  fangs 
projecting  from  the  grinning,  bloody  jaws,  and 
could  not  be  induced  to  touch  the  bristling,  tawny 
skin  of  the  beast. 

"I  shall  have  the  hide  tanned  for  you,  Miss 
Mary,"  Mr.  Richards  declared,  "and  you  shall 
use  it  in  the  schoolroom  to  keep  your  feet  warm. 
Take  it  away  now,"  he  added  to  the  man,  who 
still  stood  grinning  with  approbation  of  the  young 
senorita's  feat. 

Man  and  wolf  mounted  to  the  front  seat,  and 
they  drove  on  again  through  the  changing  lights 
and  shadows  of  the  way. 

At  noon  they  rested  for  an  hour,  after  eating 
dinner,  and  then  they  pushed  on  again.  They 
had  begun  the  descent  toward  the  plain  on  the 
other  side  when  a  sudden,  quick  shower  overtook 


FROM   THE   RANCH  TO  THE  CITY.  355 

them,  while  far  below  them  the  plains  stretched 
in  unclouded  sunshine. 

By-and-by,  as  the  shadows  lengthened  and 
the  ravine  again  grew  dim  in  the  fading  afternoon 
light,  the  road  gradually  neared  the  level  of  the 
plain,  until  finally  it  brought  them  out  upon  the 
open  prairie.  Here,  driving  was  more  comfort- 
able, and  the  mules  trotted  swiftly,  not  away  from 
the  mountains,  but  along  the  road  skirting  them, 
for  many  miles.  Once  they  crossed  the  same 
river  which  Mary  and  Jose"  had  forded  on  their 
way  to  L,a  Providencia,  and  which  had  here  found 
the  level  plain. 

The  banks  were  green  with  water  cress,  and  in 
some  shallow  places  the  surface  of  the  water  was 
entirely  hidden  by  the  tender  green  of  the  plant. 

Nothing  further  occurred  to  break  the  monotony 
of  the  journey,  and  night  had  long  fallen  over 
mountain  and  plain  when  the  coach  began  to 
rattle  past  scattered  adobe  houses,  and  long,  blank 
walls  of  corral  and  orchard,  in  the  suburbs  of  the 
city  of  S . 

Then  with  much  needless  cracking  of  the  whip, 
and  at  a  headlong  speed,  they  rushed  over  the 
cobble-stones  of  the  streets,  and  finally  drew  up 
in  front  of  the  heavy  iron  gates  of  the  mission 
school  for  girls. 

A  month  later,  two  figures  strolled  beneath  the 
gnarled  old  trees  of  the  Alameda,  or  public  wooded 


356  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

park  of  S ,  paused  beside  the  brimming  basin 

of  the  fountain,  and  stood  for  a  moment  in  earnest 
conversation. 

They  were  Mary  Summers  and  Roger  Douglas, 
and  she  was  just  promising  to  be  his  wife.  It  was 
the  eve  of  her  return  to  San  Bernabe,  and  he  could 
no  longer  wait  to  tell  her  of  the  love  that  had 
been  in  his  heart  since  that  evening  when  they 
had  first  met  underneath  the  flaring  torchlight  in 
the  market  place  of  L<a  Providencia. 

u  But  you  know,  Mr.  Douglas,"  she  was  saying, 
as  she  drew  off  her  glove  and  dipped  her  bare 
fingers  into  the  water,  "  I  cannot  leave  my  people 
in  San  Bernabe*.  I  do  not  believe  that  my  work 
there  is  done." 

"  Nor  do  I,"  he  replied,  earnestly.  "Will  there 
not  be  room  for  us  both  in  San  Bernabe"?" 

"You  will  go  there  also?"  she  asked,  in  sur- 
prise. 

"Why,  yes,  if  you  do,  my  darling.  But  not 
yet,  of  course,"  he  added,  hastily,  as  she  shook  her 
head.  "You  have  not  then  heard  of  Mr.  Rich- 
ards' plan  ?  It  is  not  likely  that  he  would  have 
spoken  of  it  to  you,  as  it  concerns  my  own  plans. 
I  am  to  be  pastor  of  the  San  Bernabe  church,  Miss 
Mary,  and  you  are  to  be  the  pastor's  wife.  Do  you 
like  our  plan?  " 

But  Mary  would  not  answer  that  question  just 
then,  and  they  turned  from  the  fountain  to  wander 
again  down  the  long  avenues. 


357 

'  You  have  not  yet  told  me  what  you  think  of 
our  plan,"  Roger  persisted  after  a  little;  "and  I 
have  been  wondering  if  you  approve  of  it,  if  you 
would  not  rather  that  we  should  be  married  out 
there,  among  your— our  people.  Mr.  Richards 
and  several  of  us  have  promised  to  go  out  to  the 
dedication  of  the  church,  you  know.  Will  it  be 
too  soon  in  April,  dear?  " 

'*  How  many  questions  you  ask  !  "  Mary  said, 
smiling  into  his  eager  hazel  eyes.  "  And  I  am 
sure  that  Mr.  Richards  knew  that  there  was  noth- 
ing else  to  be  done  but  to  appoint  you  as  pastor 
of  the  church,"  she  added,  mischievously,  "for 
he  knows  that  I  would  not  leave  those  people  !  " 

"And  will  you  be  ready  for  me  in  April?"  he 
asked,  anxiously.  "Of  course  I  shall  see  you 
several  times  before  then,  for  I  shall  run  out  occa- 
sionally to  see  how  the  building  is  progressing." 

"  Do  you  not  think  that  Jose*  can  attend  to  the 
building,  Mr.  Douglas  ?  He  is  very  energetic, 
and  a  fine  manager  of  his  men."  This  was  said 
with  more  mischief  still  in  the  happy  blue  eyes. 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  Douglas  replied.  "  So  I  shall  go 
only  to  see  my  dear  love,  if  that  will  suit  you 
better ;  and  somehow  the  days  will  pass  until  April 
comes ! " 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

BEAUTY  FOR  ASHES. 

What  inexpressible  joy  for  me  ...  to  feel  that  even  when  the  day 
itself  passes,  I  shall  see  that  the  night  itself  only  unveils  new  worlds 
of  light  ;  and  to  know  that  if  I  could  unwrap  fold  after  fold  of  God's 
universe,  I  should  only  unfold  more  and  more  blessing,  and  see 
deeper  and  deeper  into  the  love  which  is  at  the  heart  of  all  —  Elisa- 
beth Charles. 


months  passed  slowly,  and  even  April  came 
-L  and  went  before  the  San  Bernabe  church  was 
ready  for  use,  although  the  weather  continued 
fine  during  most  of  the  time  and  the  work  was 
hindered  very  little  on  account  of  occasional 
rains. 

A  snug  little  parsonage  was  also  built  near  the 
site  of  the  old  mission  schoolhouse,  and  in  conse- 
quence of  Miss  Summers'  plans,  the  plain  adobe 
cottage  was  made  a  little  more  comfortable  and 
convenient  than  the  usual  Mexican  home. 

The  month  of  May  passed  with  its  hot  winds 
and  storms  of  dust  and  sand  from  the  prairie  ;  and 
June  came  before  everything  was  ready  at  the 
ranch  for  the  coach  load  of  guests  from  S  -  , 
who  were  expected  to  attend  the  dedication  of  the 
church. 

One  Friday  afternoon  late  in  June,  the  church 
353 


BEAUTY   FOR  ASHES.  359 

stood  all  complete,  a  gleaming  white  landmark  in 
the  midst  of  the  green  plain.  In  the  stone  tower, 
at  one  corner,  a  sweet-toned  bell  was  hung,  a 
present  that  had  come  from  several  children's 
societies  in  "the  States."  Its  voice  had  not  yet 
been  heard,  for  its  first  stroke  was  to  be  sounded 
at  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning  to  invite  all  the 
ranch  to  the  dedication  services.  A  new  organ, 
also  silent,  was  within  the  walls,  and  only  the  soft 
voices  of  the  evening  world  outside  were  heard  in 
the  quiet  place  as  Jose",  a  short  while  before  the 
coach  was  expected,  closed  and  locked  the  great 
double  doors  in  the  tower. 

He  hurried  along  the  broad  path  that  had  been 
opened  from  the  ranch  to  the  church  doors,  and 
mounted  his  gray  horse  which  Antonio  held  ready 
saddled  and  bridled  for  him  in  the  road.  He  was 
to  ride  out  upon  the  plain  and  meet  the  company 
of  guests  and  accompany  them  to  the  house. 

There  was  still  no  sign  of  the  coach  upon  the 
long  stretch  of  road  beyond  when  Mary,  Petra, 
and  Refugio  came  out  of  the  Vera  court  and 
shaded  their  eyes  from  the  sunlight,  as  they 
scanned  the  road  in  vain. 

' '  It  has  been  so  hot  to-day,  Mariquita,  that  they 
must  have  rested  all  the  middle  of  the  day  and 
will  come  on  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,"  Petra 
said,  enjoying  Mary's  eagerness  and  the  flush  of 
her  cheek. 

Every  one  knew  before  now  for  whom  the  pretty 


360  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

cream-colored  cottage  was  intended,  though  no 
one,  except  the  immediate  Vera  family,  knew  just 
when  their  loved  sefiorita  was  to  become  their  no 
less  beloved  senora. 

"  To  think  that  we  made  the  trip  in  one  day," 
grumbled  Mary,  to  herself,  in  English,  smiling, 
however ;  "  and  those  lazy  folks  must  needs  take 
two  days  for  it,  and  a  night  besides !  Camping 
out  is  fun,  sometimes,  but  I  know  that  /  should 
not  wait  for  a  coach  full  of  dawdlers  if  I  had  a 
horse  and  could  ride " 

"  See  that  horse  coming  flying  toward  us,"  Re- 
fugio  exclaimed  ;  "  what  a  cloud  of  dust  he  is 
bringing  along  with  him  !  It  cannot  be  Don  Jose 
returning." 

It  was  not  Jose*  ;  and  Petra  and  Refugio  re- 
turned alone  to  the  house,  leading  a  weary  and 
dusty  horse,  while  Mary  and  the  horse's  rider 
followed  at  a  little  distance. 

The  next  day,  when  the  first  clear  notes  of  the 
chapel's  bell  sounded  an  invitation  and  a  welcome 
to  all  within  hearing  of  its  ringing  tones,  the 
whole  ranch  began  to  empty  itself,  and  groups  of 
men,  women,  and  children  hurried  through  the 
heat  to  the  cool  shade  within  the  chapel  walls. 

There  was  room  for  all  who  came  inside,  while 
many  hovered  about  the  door  and  windows  who 
were  not  willing  to  enter. 

Dona  Isabel,  with  Angela,  occupied  one  of  the 
front  seats  with  Raquel  and  her  household.  Mar- 


BEAUTY  FOR  ASHES.  361 

tina  was  there,  with  the  sad-faced  Luisa  at  her 
side,  both  grieving  in  their  hearts  over  the  loss  of 
their  boys,  yet  filled  with  a  joy  that  sorrow  could 
not  take  away. 

The  school  children  had  been  trained  by  their 
teacher  to  sing  a  song  of  welcome  to  the  congre- 
gation, and  their  young  voices  filled  the  little 
church  with  melody.  Then  followed  other  hymns 
and  several  addresses  from  the  missionaries  pres- 
ent, and  just  when  the  many  little  ones  present 
were  beginning  to  grow  restive,  Mr.  Richards 
brought  the  services  to  a  close,  with  the  announce- 
ment that  the  new  pastor  of  the  church,  their 
friend  Mr.  Douglas,  would  be  formally  presented 
to  them  at  the  evening  service. 

Then,  when  all  were  expecting  the  benediction, 
he  stepped  quietly  down  from  the  little  pulpit,  and 
stood  for  a  moment  on  the  lowest  step,  while  Miss 
Summers  left  her  place  at  the  organ  and  was 
joined  by  Roger  Douglas  amid  an  intense  silence. 
They  stood  before  the  minister,  and  were  quietly 
married,  while  the  audience  stared  in  open-eyed 
astonishment.  Then  Mr.  Richards,  in  a  trembling 
voice,  called  for  a  blessing  from  God  upon  the 
little  church,  which  had  again  found  a  home,  and 
upon  the  two  who  were  to  be  the  shepherds  of  the 
little  flock,  and  who  had  just  been  made  one. 

With  joyful  hearts  the  whole  congregation 
escorted  the  bridegroom  and  his  bride  along  the 
road  to  the  little  parsonage,  after  the  services  were 


362  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

concluded,  and  the  rest  of  the  day  was  given  up  to 
a  quiet  enjoyment  of  a  holiday. 

launch  was  served  for  the  missionaries  in  Mrs. 
Douglas'  bright  little  dining  room,  and  a  prettier 
hostess  and  happier  host  were  never  seen. 

During  the  afternoon,  while  all  sat  merrily 
talking  in  the  sala,  Refugio  came  in  and  whispered 
to  the  bride  that  old  Juana's  grandchild,  the  poor, 
diseased  boy,  was  dying,  and  that  the  woman 
begged  that  the  young  missionary  should  be  sent 
for.  The  old  crone  had  grown  very  feeble  during 
the  past  months,  and  Miss  Summers  had  gone  to 
see  her  often,  as  she  lay  in  her  miserable  hut  upon 
a  sack  filled  with  straw.  Her  hatred  for  the  young 
missionary  had  slowly  disappeared  before  the  con- 
stant acts  of  kindness  she  had  been  able  to  show 
her  in  her  sickness,  and  she  was  as  eager  now  for 
her  visits  as  she  had  before  opposed  them. 

Slipping  away  from  her  friends,  the  happy 
young  missionary  hurried  to  the  house  where  the 
miserable  little  life  of  the  sick  child  was  fast  going 
out.  She  knew  that  nothing  better  could  come  to 
the  idiot  boy  than  the  end  that  was  approaching, 
yet  she  sympathized  with  the  helpless  old  woman's 
distress  over  her  grandchild,  who  was  the  only 
creature  left  to  love  her  in  her  unlovable  old  age. 

She  stayed  with  her  until  the  last  struggle  on  the 
little  pallet  was  over,  and  the  small  shrunken  body 
lay  still.  She  talked  with  the  weeping  grand- 
mother, and  tried  to  gently  lead  her  to  the  com- 


BEAUTY   FOR   ASHES.  363 

forts  offered  by  the  gospel  to  just  such  forsaken 
creatures  as  she  was,  but  it  was  difficult  to  know 
whether  any  effect  was  produced  upon  the  aged 
mind  and  heart.  She  had  to  leave  her,  finally, 
and  return  to  her  husband. 

Again  the  bell  rang  out  upon  the  summer  air, 
and  again  the  church  filled  with  people,  who 
listened  with  intense  attention  to  the  words  of  the 
gospel  preached  to  them. 

The  next  day  was  the  Lord's  Day,  and  Mr. 
Douglas  himself  preached  to  his  people.  What 
matter  if  his  words  were  brief  and  halting,  in  the 
strange,  difficult  tongue,  when  his  heart  was  full 
to  overflowing  with  love  for  God  and  for  his  hear- 
ers ?  They  understood  what  he  tried  to  say,  and 
they  loved  him  for  his  brave  earnestness. 

Angela  Vera  had  come,  long  before,  according 
to  Isabel's  promise,  to  spend  a  while  with  her 
friend,  now  Mrs.  Douglas,  as  soon  as  she  was  able 
to  leave  home,  and  the  latter  was  touched  at  the 
deep  affection  the  girl  showed  for  her.  The  old 
bright,  vivid  beauty  had  not  returned,  but  there 
was  a  sweet  earnestness  impressed  upon  her  face 
which  made  it  more  attractive  than  before, 
and  Mary  often  wondered  how  Jose  could 
resist  her  new  charms.  But  when  she  saw  that 
Angela  could  not  forget  that  Jose*  had  once  seemed 
to  care  for  her,  and  that  the  color  was  not  returning 
to  her  cheeks,  she  had  begged  Dona  Isabel  to  let 
her  daughter  go  for  a  year  or  two  to  the  college  in 


364  A    MEXICAN   RANCH. 

S .  There  she  could  study  music,  and  learn 

that  there  were  many  things  in  the  world  for  an 
earnest  woman's  heart  and  hands  to  do. 

So,  when  the  party  returned  to  S after  the 

dedication,  Angela  went  with  them. 

The  new  pastor  was  soon  second  only  to  his 
wife  in  the  hearts  of  his  people,  and  his  upright 
Christian  life  made  a  deep  impression  for  good 
upon  those  also  who  were  not  yet  of  the  "fold." 

One  evening,  when  the  young  teacher  had  been 
married  several  weeks,  she  was  sitting  in  her  airy 
hallway,  waiting  tea  for  her  husband,  who  had 
gone  to  visit  the  church- members  living  in  El 
Porvenir.  She  was  sewing  busily,  and  singing  as 
she  sewed.  Refugio  was  away,  and  she  was 
beginning  to  feel  a  little  lonely,  when  she  looked 
up  and  saw  Jose  standing  at  the  door.  He  entered 
at  her  invitation,  and  began  frankly  to  tell  her  the 
object  of  his  visit  as  soon  as  he  was  seated. 

u  Have  I  taken  good  care  of  Refugio,  for  you, 
senorita?"  he  asked.  "  All  these  months  I  have 
not  forgotten  that  I  was  her  elder  brother,  and  I 
have  kept  off  many  a  bold  fellow  from  speaking 
with  her.  Have  I  done  right  in  watching  over 
her?" 

"  Quite  right,  Jose","  Mary  replied.  "  I  knew 
that  I  could  trust  you  ! ' ' 

"How  far  can  you  trust  me,  senorita?"  he 
questioned.  "  I  am  tired  of  being  '  elder  brother ' 


BEAUTY  FOR  ASHES.  365 

now,  and  I  have  come  to  ask  you  to  give  her  to 
me  for  my  wife.  You  must  know  that  I  love  her, 
even  though  once  I  was— well,  a  little  crazed  I 
think."  He  blushed  and  looked  away  from  his 
friend's  smiling  face. 

'  You  may  have  her,  Jose",  for  I  know  that  you 
love  each  other.  God  bless  you  both.  But  you 
must  wait  a  year  or  two,  my  friend,  for  Refugio  is 
young  yet,  only  seventeen,  and  she  has  many 
things  yet  to  learn  before  she  should  become  a 
wife." 

"  I  shall  wait  as  long  as  you  wish,  senorita,  if 
only  1  know  that  she  is  to  be  mine,"  he  replied  ; 
and  then  begged  that  he  might  go  to  find  Refugio, 
and  tell  her  of  his  love. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A  GARDEN   OF    GIRLS. 

Behind  us,  behind  each  one  of  us,  lie  six  thousand  years  of 
human  effort,  human  conquest ;  before  us,  is  the  boundless  Time  with 
its  as  yet  uncreated  and  unconquered  continents  and  El  Dorados, 
which  we,  even  we,  have  to  conquer,  to  create ;  and  from  the  bosom 
of  Eternity  there  shine  for  us  celestial  guiding  stars. —  Thomas 
Carlyle. 

'THOUGH  it  was  on  a  hot  June  day  when  the 

J-      coach  containing  Angela  and  her  traveling 

companions  drew  up  before  the  gate  of  the  college 

in  S ,  the  building  and  corridors  were  swarming 

with  girls.  In  North  Mexico,  where  the  houses 
are  chilly  with  their  stone  floors  and  unglazed 
windows,  and  the  winters  are  cold,  vacation  is 
given  during  this  season  in  the  mission  schools  ; 
and  December  and  January  are  selected  as  the 
vacation  months,  when  the  empty  schoolrooms 
and  dormitories  are  given  over  to  the  chill  damp- 
ness and  sweeping  draughts  of  wintry  winds. 

Work  goes  on  all  during  the  summer  with  ease, 
for  although  the  sun  is  hot  outside,  within  the 
thick  walls  of  the  Mexican  houses  the  air  is  cool 
and  pleasant. 

So  the  school  work  was  just  at  its  busiest  when 
Angela  entered  the  broad  corridors  of  the  college 
366 


ANGELA. 


Page  3C7. 


A   GARDEN   OF  GIRLS.  367 

for  the  first  time,  and  took  her  place  among  the 
busy  workers  laboring  there. 

The  situation  of  this  mission  college  was  a  little 
unique,  for  it  occupied  a  square  all  to  itself,  near 
the  heart  of  the  city,  being  surrounded  on  four 
sides  by  as  many  streets.  The  great  iron  gates  of 
the  hallway  opened  out  upon  a  little  green  garden 
shaded  by  umbrella  trees,  and  surrounded  by  a 
high  iron  railing.  There  were  walks  in  the  gar- 
den and  plots  of  grass,  and  rose  trees  here  and 
there.  This  garden  was  entered  from  the  street 
by  a  narrow  gate  on  each  side. 

As  Angela  entered  the  iron  gates  of  the  build- 
ing, and  followed  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  who 
had  brought  her  from  San  Bernabe,  into  the  inner 
courtyard,  she  was  almost  overwhelmed  by  the 
vociferous  welcome  given  them  by  at  least  fifty 
noisy  throats  inside. 

As  the  garden  outside  was  too  public  for  the 
mission  pupils  to  use  as  a  playground,  the  great 
inner  court  and  the  arched  corridors  surrounding 
it  were  always  given  up  to  the  girls  for  their 
sports  and  promenade. 

Soon,  therefore,  Angela  found  herself  sur- 
rounded by  a  laughing  group  of  girls  of  about  her 
own  age,  all  of  whom  seemed  to  speak  at  once, 
and  she  was  quite  bewildered,  until  one  of  the 
teachers  came  to  her  rescue  and  carried  her  off  to 
her  own  room. 

Presently    a    gentle-looking    child    came    for 


368  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

Angela,  and  led  her  to  a  long  dim  dormitory 
lighted  only  by  the  doors  opening  upon  the  corri- 
dor and  containing  eight  little  beds. 

"The  Senorita  Berta  says  that  you  may  sleep 
next  to  me,  as  there  is  a  vacant  bed  here,"  said 
the  child  ;  "  and  I  will  help  you  arrange  your 
things  when  the  man  brings  in  your  trunk." 

When  night  fell  at  last  over  the  little  commu- 
nity securely  shut  within  its  stone  walls,  and  the 
bell  for  darkness  and  quiet  had  ceased  its  rever- 
berations along  the  empty  corridors,  Angela  lay 
down  upon  her  narrow  bed,  beside  that  of  the 
friendly  little  Luz. 

She  had  much  to  think  about,  but  long  before 
the  loud  whisperings  from  the  neighboring  beds 
were  hushed  in  sleep,  she  herself  had  traveled  far 
into  dreamland. 

The  days  passed  swiftly  after  the  first  week  or 
two  of  dreary  homesickness.  Surely  no  girls  are 
more  friendly  and  sympathetic  than  Mexican 
schoolgirls,  and  it  was  not  long  before  Angela 
was  adopted  by  one  of  her  own  age  as  "bosom 
friend." 

Her  firm  friend,  Mrs.  Douglas,  had  written 
from  San  Bernabe"  to  Miss  Berta  Shaw,  the  princi- 
pal of  the  school,  entrusting  Angela  to  her  warm, 
motherly  heart  ;  and  the  girl  was  examined  by 
the  teachers  without  delay  during  the  first  week, 
and  assigned  a  place  in  the  schoolroom. 

The  strict  regulations  of  school  life  were  at 


A   GARDEN   OF  GIRLS.  369 

first  irksome  to  Angela,  who  had  hitherto  been  as 
free  as  a  wild  bird  in  her  own  father's  house.  Her 
school  days  in  her  mountain  home  had  ended  long 
ago,  and  it  was  hard  to  come  back  to  books  and 
slates.  But  when  she  found  that  the  friend  of  her 
heart  was  already  studying  English,  and  could 
even  speak  it  intelligibly,  and  that  the  black- 
board and  globe  exercises  were  like  so  many  inter- 
esting games,  she  became  reconciled  to  study,  and 
before  long  ceased  to  murmur  at  her  own  low 
place  in  her  classes.  Music,  even  in  its  rudiments, 
was  her  chief  joy,  and  she  practised  with  almost 
a  feverish  iutentness. 

No  one  could  understand  so  well  as  Mary  the 
following  letter,  received  from  the  principal  of 
the  college,  written  three  months  after  Angela's 
entrance  : 

"  Now  that  you  have  heard  all  of  the  harmless 
bits  of  gossip  about  our  little  mission  family  here, 
you  will  wish  to  hear  about  your  girl,  Angela 
Vera.  In  some  respects,  I  find  her  one  of  the  most 
interesting  characters  we  have  ever  had  to  study 
here.  She  is  an  impulsive,  warm-hearted  child, 
not  especially  fond  of  books,  yet  passionately  de- 
voted to  the  piano.  Her  teachers  in  the  other 
branches  complain  of  listlessness  occasionally  in 
the  schoolroom,  and  grow  impatient  over  her 
'far-seeing  gaze,'  as  one  expresses  it,  when  her 
eyes  should  be  fixed  upon  her  geography  or  his- 
tory. From  what  you  have  hinted  to  me,  I  think 


370  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

I  can  understand  something  of  this  absent-mind- 
edness, and  I  believe  that  it  will  eventually  pass 
away,  after  a  long  absence  from  San  Bernabe. 
On  this  account  I  think  it  would  be  well,  if  her 
parents  consent,  to  leave  her  here  with  me  during 
the  vacation.  She  will  be  carefully  shielded  from 
all  evil  influences,  as  you  know,  and  will  become 
weaned  from  her  fancy  for  your  friend.  Already 
she  seems  much  happier  than  when  she  first  ar- 
rived, and  you  may  rest  assured  that  I  have  laid 
to  heart  your  letter  of  counsel  with  respect  to 
Angela.  She  comes  to  me  with  her  difficulties  as 
naturally  as  a  child  to  its  mother,  and  I  am  glad 
to  tell  you  that  all  of  the  ill  effects  of  her  sick- 
ness have  disappeared.  She  is  still  somewhat 
thin,  but  her  color  is  good  and  her  skin  smooth 
again.  I  think  she  has  no  idea  how  lovely  are 
her  short,  silky  rings  of  black  hair,  as  she  will 
never  let  herself  be  seen  out  of  bed  without  her 
rebozo  wound  tightly  about  her  head. 

"  You  ask  about  her  religious  impressions,  but 
I  have  no  good  news  for  you  on  that  point.  You 
know  how  hard  it  is  to  impress  these  girls  with  a 
reverence  for  the  Bible.  Angela  attends  chapel 
service  morning  and  night,  of  course,  with  the 
other  girls,  and  she  is  in  my  class  in  Sunday- 
school.  I  hope  that  before  she  leaves  us,  her 
heart  may  be  touched  by  the  Spirit  of  truth.  We 
can  have  faith,  and  can  work  and  pray,  and  call 
do  no  more." 


A   GARDEN  OF  GIRI<S.  37! 

One  pleasant  November  afternoon,  near  the  close 
of  Angela's  first  session  at  college,  the  whole  school 
was  out  for  its  weekly  stroll  to  the  old  Alameda. 

The  long,  double  file  of  girls  walked  briskly 
through  the  streets  from  the  college  to  the  grove 
with  all   their  accustomed  gayety,  and  many  a 
passer-by  turned  his  head  to  catch  a  second  glimpse 
of    the    bright-faced    column  of   neatly    dressed 
maidens.     A  teacher  headed  this  long  column  of 
over  a  hundred,  the  day  scholars  being  included 
in  this  weekly  walk,  and  the  principal  brought 
up   the   rear.     Every   girl   was   bareheaded,  and 
their  little  high-heeled  shoes  tapped  lightly  upon 
the  rough  cobble-stones.     Two  or  three  vendors 
of  sweets  trotted  behind  the  ranks,  carrying  trays 
of  candies  and  sweet  buns  and  fruit,  and  all  eagerly 
hastened  toward  the  shade  of  the  beautiful  "trees 
of  the  Alameda.     This  ancient  grove  lies  just  on 
the  western  edge  of  the  city,  near  the  suburban 
orchards  and  private  gardens,  and  it  was  a  relief 
to  leave   the  rough-paved  street   and  enter  the 
cleanly  swept  avenues.     Here  the  dust  was  laid 
by  the  hand-sprinkling  of  the  water-carriers.    Old, 
crumbling  stone  benches  were  built  here  and  there 
under  the  trees,  and  in  the  center  of  the  park  there 
was  an  immense  fountain  basin  with  its  rippling 
surface  of  water,  like  a   miniature   lake.     The 
large  open  space  around  the  basin  was  paved  and 
surrounded  by  the  stone  seats,  and  this  space  was 
called  the  glorietta. 


372  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

Toward  the  glorietta  the  teachers  and  girls  pro- 
ceeded, and  here  they  disbanded  in  the  midst  of 
merry  shouts  and  laughter.  The  teachers  sank  to 
rest  upon  the  stone  seats,  and  the  vendors  began 
to  drive  a  lively  trade  over  their  wares.  There 
was  scarcely  a  girl  who  had  not  at  least  a  cuartilla 
(three  cents)  to  spend.  By-and-by,  the  grove 
echoed  from  side  to  side  with  noisy  games,  while 
here  and  there  the  quieter,  older  girls  strolled  by 
twos  and  threes  for  cosy  chats  in  some  retired 
corner.  There  was  no  danger  from  this  license 
given  them,  for  the  eyes  of  the  teachers  were 
sharp,  and  they  had  only  to  guard  against  any 
clandestine  meetings  or  words  between  their  flock 
and  the  students  of  the  State  College.  These 
young  gentlemen  usually  selected  the  afternoon 
of  the  girls'  walk  for  their  own  promenade  in  the 
Alameda,  and  here  and  there  down  the  avenues 
could  be  seen  groups  of  black  coats,  as  well  as 
those  more  gayly  colored,  moving  hither  and 
thither. 

The  hour  of  recreation  was  drawing  to  a  close 
when  the  principal's  sharp  eyes  detected  a  couple 
of  girls  seated  on  a  far-away  bench,  with  a  tall 
figure  in  the  gown  of  a  priest,  standing  before 
them.  She  was  on  her  feet  in  an  instant  and 
walking  hastily  toward  them.  The  girls  were 
Angela  Vera  and  her  friend  Arcadia,  and  both 
came  hastily  toward  her  as  she  approached,  while 
the  priest  hurried  away  in  an  opposite  direction. 


A   GARDEN   OF  GIRLS.  373 

Angela's  face  was  livid  as  she  met  Miss  Shaw,  and 
her  lips  moved  helplessly  without  the  sound  of  a 
word.  Arcadia  held  her  hand  and  was  drawing 
her  hastily  along. 

"  Senorita  Berta,"  she  exclaimed,  in  a  frightened 
whisper,  "let  us  go  quickly.  See  how  he  has 
frightened  Angelita.  I  do  not  know  what  he  said, 
for  he  whispered  into  her  ear,  but  Angela  will  tell 
you.  Dearest  Angelita,  do  not  look  so,"  she  en- 
treated ;  "he  is  gone — indeed  I  see  him  nowhere 
at  all  now." 

Miss  Shaw  led  them  both  to  a  seat,  but  soon 
found  that  she  could  get  nothing  from  Angela  in 
explanation  of  her  fright.  The  girl's  teeth  chat- 
tered and  she  began  to  sob  when  Miss  Shaw 
pressed  her  to  answer  her  questions.  She  could 
only  learn  from  Arcadia  that  the  priest  had  passed 
them  as  they  sat  talking  together,  and  that  he  had 
seemed  to  recognize  Angela,  had  returned  toward 
them,  and  had  bent  and  whispered  a  few  words 
into  Angela's  ear  before  moving  on  again. 

The  whistle  was  sounded  as  a  signal  for  all  the 
girls  to  gather  again  in  the  glorietta  and  form  the 
column  for  the  homeward  march.  Miss  Shaw  kept 
the  two  frightened  girls  under  her  own  special  care, 
and  as  they  left  the  shade  of  the  grove,  forbade 
either  of  them  to  mention  to  their  companions 
what  had  occurred.  So  the  merry  party  walked 
homeward,  tired  and  happy,  and  chattering  like  a 
flock  of  magpies  all  the  way. 


374  A   MEXICAN   RANCH. 

On  arriving  at  the  college,  Miss  Shaw  carried 
Angela  off  to  her  room,  and  before  many  moments 
her  tender  entreaties  had  won  from  the  girl  what 
she  wished  to  know. 

Angela  had  a  hearty  fit  of  crying  first,  and 
when  she  had  grown  calmer  and  was  able  to 
speak,  confessed  with  a  hysterical  laugh  : 

"  I  do  not  know  why  I  was  so  frightened,  sen- 
orita,  for  the  padre  said  only  one  word  to  me. 
He  stopped  and  looked  into  my  eyes,  but  his  eyes 
seemed  like  two  sharp  knives,  and  when  he  hissed 
^ protestante '  into  my  very  face,  I  was  frightened 
to  death." 

"You  foolish  child,"  the  principal  exclaimed; 
"  do  you  not  know  that  that  is  what  they  call  us 
all?  They  can  think  of  no  epithet  more  insulting 
for  us. ' ' 

' '  Of  course  I  know  that,  senorita,  but  I  have 
not  yet  told  you  who  it  was.  The  Senorita  Maria 
would  have  been  frightened  too,  if  she  had  seen 
Padre  Esteban  Lopez  of  L,a  Providencia  ! ' ' 

' '  Indeed  !  Was  it  he  ?  How  strange  that  he 
should  let  himself  be  seen  here  so  soon  !  But, 
seriously,  Angela,  you  need  have  no  fear  of  him. 
He  would  not  dare  to  harm  you,  if  it  should  be 
possible  to  harm  one  of  our  little  doves  here.  We 
shall  take  care  of  you,  child.  And  remember  that 
the  hated  name  ^ protestantej  meant  for  a  curse 
upon  us  by  the  Romanists,  is  what  I  most  long  to 
call  you.  Some  day,  little  girl,  you  will  be  pro- 


A  GARDEN  OF  GIRLS.  375 

testante,  I  hope,  and  then  your  loved  Senorita 
Maria  and  I  shall  thank  God  for  teaching  you  the 
truth.  Now  go  quickly  to  your  supper  and  say 
nothing  about  this  priest  to  the  girls.  I  will  my- 
self speak  to  Arcadia  about  it." 

At  the  supper  table  of  the  missionaries  that 
night  Mr.'  Richards  remarked,  casually  : 

"  Well,  I  suppose  we  have  seen  the  last  of  that 
fellow  Esteban  Lopez,  the  priest,  who  stirred  up 
the  ranch  against  Miss  Mary  last  year." 

"What  can  you  mean?"  asked  Miss  Shaw, 
hastily.  "  Angela  met  him  in  the  Alaineda  this 
afternoon,  and  was  terribly  frightened  at  his  recog- 
nizing her  and  calling  her  a  Protestant." 

" Is  it  possible  that  he  dared?  I  also  saw  him 
this  afternoon,  but  he  took  pains  to  cross  the  street 
ahead  of  me  and  vanish  within  a  doorway  as  soon 
as  he  saw  me.  Our  consul  tells  me  that  the  fellow 
has  been  ordered  to  Spain  by  the  archbishop,  as 
Esteban  thinks  his  life  is  not  safe  in  Mexico  and 
fears  that  the  Veras  will  eventually  call  him  to 
account  for  the  trouble  at  San  Bernabe.  The 
consul  seemed  to  have  a  hazy  idea  of  his  business 
to  Spain,  but  he  thinks  the  man  is  to  be  sent  as  a 
missionary  from  Madrid  over  into  Morocco.  At 
any  rate,  we  need  not  fear  to  see  him  hereabouts 
any  more." 

"  Then  you  think  I  may  assure  Angela  that  he 
will  be  no  longer  skulking  about  here  to  frighten 
her?  The  poor  child  is  very  nervous  about  him." 


376  A   MEXICAN  RANCH. 

"The  consul  said  that  Esteban  was  only  passing 
through  on  his  way  to  New  York  from  Mexico 
City.  You  know  the  consul's  wife  is  a  Mexican  and 
a  Romanist,  so  he  has  his  information  from  her. ' ' 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  Angela's  pillow  was 
softer  and  smoother  that  night,  for  the  intelligence 
that  Padre  Esteban  was  bound  for  foreign  lands, 
than  it  would  have  been  if  she  had  had  to  dread 
the  risk  ot  meeting  him  at  any  turn. 

Angela  is  still  at  school  at  S ,  though  the 

last  vacation  or  two  has  been  spent  with  her  pa- 
rents in  her  own  home. 

As  she  travels  between  S and  La  Proyi- 

dencia,  she  spends  a  night  always  with  Mrs. 
Douglas  in  San  Bernabe*,  while  the  diligence  puts 
up  in  the  ranch  inn  ;,  and  Mary  is  rejoiced  to  find 
that  she  is  again  whole  and  hearty  in  her  enjoy- 
ment of  life. 

During  the  next  holidays  she  is  to  spend  a  week 
in  the  little  parsonage  at  the  ranch,  and  assist  at 
the  wedding  of  her  cousin  Jose"  and  Refugio. 
Refugio  will  then  leave  her  who  has  sheltered 
her  from  the  day  when  she  came  to  her,  foot-sore 
and  sick,  from  over  the  mountains,  and  will  go  to 
live  in  the  Vera  home,  in  Mary's  old  rooms  there. 

A  great  friendship  has  arisen  between  Refugio 
and  Angela,  and  Jose"  willingly  resigns  the  palm 
to  his  cousin  in  the  matter  of  organ-playing. 

Angela  has  not  yet  become  a  Protestant  in  name, 
although  there  is  little  doubt  of  her  inclination  in 


A   GARDEN   OF   GIRLS.  377 

that  direction,  and  Mary  well  knows  that  the 
prayers  to  the  virgin  and  the  saints  have  long 
become  a  matter  of  the  past. 

All  natures  do  not  yield  with  equal  readiness  to 
the  gentle  influences  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ;,  and 
sometimes  the  most  obstinate  in  cleaving  to  the 
wrong  become  the  firmest  and  most  faithful  for 
the  right,  when  once  convinced  of  error. 

San  Bernabe  was  not  converted  in  one  month, 
nor  in  one  year.  One  by  one,  now  and  then,  the 
church  grows  in  numbers,  and  the  little  school, 
Refugio's  now,  is  the  only  one  in  the  ranch,  and 
a  new  house  has  been  built  for  it.  Much  of  the 
opposition  against  "the  new  religion"  has  died 
away,  though  there  are  still  those  who  go  their 
weary  way  across  the  plain  to  Sunday  mass  at  the 
church  in  La  Bienvenida. 

And  so  the  work  goes  on,  and  will  go  on,  as 
long  as  men  and  women  love  their  God  and  their 
neighbor,  and  believe  the  truth,  that  "no-work 
truly  done,  no  word  earnestly  spoken,  no  sacrifice 
freely  made,  was  ever  made  in  vain." 


THE  END. 


A    000056154    8 


